


A Dragon's Equal

by NotLikeYouThink



Series: Chronicles of a Dragon [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Blood, Canon deaths, Canon-Typical Violence, Carried On From Last Book, Despite This Being the Third One in the Series, Dragonborn - Freeform, Dragonborn Questline - Freeform, Dragons, Fluff, Gen, Gore, I Still Don't Know How to Tag These, Platonic Male/Female Friendships, Slow Burn, apocrypha, oblivion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-07-20 05:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16130888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotLikeYouThink/pseuds/NotLikeYouThink
Summary: Sailing to Solstheim following only a letter and the words of a god, Elsebet Dragonslayer is determined to find out who Miraak is and why he wants her dead. Travelling with childhood friend Marcurio, she crosses Solstheim to get to the bottom of the mystery that may be tied to the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, one of the Princes she champions.Rune is determined to find her. With only the knowledge that the Dragonborn helps people, he follows her to Solstheim, not knowing that she is the woman he loves. Always one step behind, all he has are clues to her whereabouts and not to who she is.A giant game of cat-and-mouse and the toughest enemy Elsebet has faced yet, she faces challenge after challenge as she makes new friends of the Skaal and an old Telvanni mage, all with their own parts to play.





	1. A New Island

**Author's Note:**

> I am so excited to write this! I've been wanting to start this since chapter 12 of last book, and here it finally is! I love all of you, and I am so glad you're still reading this.
> 
> Enjoy the next chapter in Elsebet's story!

Elsebet Dragonslayer looked out over the Sea of Ghosts, the breeze blowing through her hair. In the distance the island of Solstheim was visible, telling her the four-day journey had almost come to an end.

It was a shame. It was her first time on the sea, and she had been enjoying it.

Marcurio, though, hadn’t.

“Are you done?”

He lifted his head and glared at her, his normally-bronze skin now pale from sea-sickness. The boat went over another wave, and Marcurio’s head was back over the side of the ship, vomiting into the ocean.

“I hate sailing,” he groaned. “I want to go home.”

“You’re the one that wanted to come with me,” Elsebet said. “And you do realise that going home is another four-day journey, right?”

He froze, and blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine with anywhere, as long as it’s solid ground.”

The captain of the ship they rode on, the _Northern Maiden_ , Gjalund Salt-Sage, came up to them. “Only about an hour until we get to Raven Rock.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Marcurio muttered, and then threw up over the side of the boat again.

The hour went by quickly, in Elsebet’s mind, as she watched Solstheim creep closer and closer, listening to the waves moving against the wood of the boat’s hull and the sound of Marcurio constantly vomiting.

“How can you vomit so much?” she asked him.

“Honestly, I think it’s just water right now.”

Captain Gjalund came up to them again as the boat careened to the right, passed a wall and into the docks. “Well, here we are. Welcome to Raven Rock. Just… be careful here. Things aren’t what they used to be.”

The boat stopped next to a wooden dock, and Marcurio ran off the boat and onto it, lying down on it and telling it that he missed dry land.

Elsebet picked up her and Marcurio’s packs and started disembarking, only to be stopped by a Dunmer in fancy clothing. Marcurio got to his feet as the Dunmer spoke.

“I don’t recognise the two of you, so I’ll assume this is your first visit to Raven Rock, outlanders,” the elf said. “State your intentions.”

“We’re looking for someone named Miraak,” Elsebet said. “Do you know him?”

“It’s an unusual name,” Marcurio put in. “If you do know one, it’s probably him.”

The Dunmer blinked. “Miraak… I… I’m… I’m not sure that I do.”

“Can you tell us anything about him?” Elsebet asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m not… The name has something to do with the Earth Stone, I think. But I’m not sure what.”

“Where’s the Earth Stone?” she asked.

“What _is_ an Earth Stone?” Marcurio pondered, looking slightly to the right.

The Dunmer ignored Marcurio and answered Elsebet’s question. “The Earth Stone is on the other side of the docks. You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Thank you. This is Marcurio, and I’m Elsebet Dragonslayer,” she said. “We thank you for letting us into your town.”

He nodded. “I am Second Counsellor Arano. And I’m sorry, did you say “Dragonslayer”?”

“Yes. I’m the Dragonborn.”

She had decided on the journey to Solstheim that she would introduce herself as the Dragonborn. What Arcaelo Belinius had told her about her ancestor, the Champion of Cyrodiil, she realised that, no, she didn’t want to be forgotten, she wanted to be remembered; and that was only possible if people know who she was.

The time for hiding was over.

Second Counsellor Arano blinked at her in surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I’m sorry for my inhospitality, but as the Second Counsellor it is my duty to be wary of strangers.”

“It’s alright. Thank you for you help.”

He nodded, and Elsebet and Marcurio made their way to the other side of the docks, where on a little outcrop of land there was a stone with weird arches around it, being worked on by normal-looking Dunmer, people in a weird-looking armour Elsebet had never seen before, and a Breton.

Staring at those working was a Dunmer in weird-looking robes.

“That must be the Earth Stone,” Marcurio muttered.

When they approached, the Dunmer not working on the Stone spoke to them.

“You there… you don’t seem to be in quite the same state as the others here. Very interesting. May I ask what you’re doing here?”

As he said that, Marcurio wandered over to the Stone and started working on it, much like everyone else.

“Well, he’s like everyone else,” Elsebet said, glancing at the Imperial before looking back at the Dunmer. “I’m looking for someone named Miraak.”

He thought for a moment. “Miraak… Miraak… It sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place… Oh. Wait. I remember. But that makes very little sense. Miraak’s been dead for thousands of years.”

_So was Alduin_ , she thought. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s fascinating, isn’t it?” he asked. “Perhaps it has some relation to what’s going on here. Quite unexpected. I’m afraid I can’t give you any answers. But there are ruins of an ancient temple of Miraak’s toward the centre of the island. If I were you, I’d look there.”

“Who are you?” she asked him. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s true that I normally prefer to stay home and conduct my research in peace. Everything’s much more convenient there. But, given that something seems to be taking control of the minds of all the inhabitants of Solstheim, I thought it worth investigating.”

“Why aren’t you affected like everyone else?”

He let out a sharp breath of air. “I have gone to some pains to ensure that I am immune to many forms of control. I cannot say for certain which is currently protecting me, but it bears further investigation at some point.”

“What are these people doing? What’s Marcurio doing?”

“Building something, clearly,” he said. “And yet they don’t seem to have much to say about it. I’m very interested to find out what happens when they finish.”

“Have you tried stopping it?”

He scoffed. “Certainly not! Doing so would interfere with whatever is going on, and I would be unable to see how it all turns out.”

She rolled her eyes, and approached the Stone. The people, including Marcurio, were building the arches, but not touching the Stone in the middle. Very interesting.

As she reached out to touch it, she heard the Dunmer say, “That seems inadvisable… oh well.”

Her palm touched it, and then she blacked out. What felt like a second later she somewhere else, hammering one of the arches next to the only Breton working on it.

_Here in his shrine._

The deep voice filled her mind, one she had never heard before, old and ancient, like the voice of a dragon.

_That they have forgotten._

_Here do we toil._

“Fascinating,” she heard the Dunmer say. “By touching the Stone, you appear to have fallen under whatever influence is affecting the others.”

_That we might remember._

_By night we reclaim._

_What by day was stolen._

She picked up a piece of stone against her will and hammered it into the arch she was working on. She knew that there was something forcing her to do it, and she had a feeling it was whoever the voice belonged to.

_Far from ourselves._

_He grows ever near to us._

“I wonder how long this effect will last,” the Dunmer pondered. Perhaps it is permanent as with the others.”

_Our eyes once were blinded._

_Now through him do we see._

“That would be a shame. You were an interesting exception to the otherwise universal phenomenon.”

_Our hands once were idle._

_Now through them does he speak._

“Can you hear me? Do you have any free will left, or are you completely under this outside influence like the others?”

_And when the world shall listen._

_And when the world shall see._

She knew she had free will. She wanted to fight it, but the mantra that was repeating in her head made her want to stay.

_And when the world remembers._

_That word shall cease to be._

_Here in this shrine._

_That they have forgotten._

The mantra started repeating itself, and Elsebet pulled herself out of the stupor she was in. She stepped away from the arch, shaking her head clear.

“Ah, so you appear to be able to resist the effect by exerting your will. Fascinating! I would not advise touching the Stone again. The effects of repeated contact could be… Unless of course you’d like to contribute to my investigation. It could be very enlightening to observe you.”

She gave him a look, telling him that, no, she wasn’t going to touch the Stone again. He looked upset, but she thanked him for the information, grabbed Marcurio by the sleeve, and dragged him away from the Stone.

When they were a ways away, the Imperial mage said, “Wait, what happened?”

“You were under a spell, I think,” Elsebet said. “I got some information on Miraak though.”

“Really?” he asked. “What was it?”

She sighed, letting go of his sleeve. “Miraak died thousands of years ago. He has a temple in ruins at the centre of the island. I just need to find a way around that black thing,” she said, pointing to the tall hexagons connected together at the back of Raven rock, “and then we can ignore roads and head for the centre.”

“It’s called a Bulwark,” the Breton that had been building the arches said as he passed. “It keeps the ash at bay. And you’re heading for the centre of the island?”

She nodded.

“Well, the only road out of here leads up to the centre, so just follow that. You’ll miss the reavers that way.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded. “No problem. The name’s Glover Mallory, I’m the blacksmith.”

“Wait, did you say “Mallory”?” she asked. “Do you know a Delvin Mallory?”

“Aye,” he said. “He’s my brother. Mercer sent me here years ago to keep a Guild presence on the island, but that didn’t exactly work out.”

“Well, there’s no need to be here anymore,” she said. “He’s dead. I killed him myself.”

“What?!”

“He was a traitor to the Guild,” she said, trying to calm him down. “He’s the one that killed Gallus, not Karliah. And he had been stealing from the Guild for years.”

He blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Alright. I believe you. But you’re with the Guild, right? I have a whole bunch of supplies in my basement, and I’ll give ‘em to you if you can get me something someone stole from me.”

“Where is he?”

“He told me he was going to try and fence some goods with the rieklings at Castle Karstaag, not far north from Skaal Village, on the other side of the island, just passed Miraak’s Temple. You can see the village from there, and they should point you in the right direction. And if you’re in the helping mood, can you get my pickaxe from Crescius Caerellius? Foolish old man’s taken it again.”

“That’s a lot, and I’m kind of in a rush.”

“I’ll pay you good coin.”

“Done. So, you want your pickaxe back? Why can’t you just get another one?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t just your run-of-the-mill pickaxe. I’m talking about an Ancient Nordic Pickaxe. They don’t exactly grow on trees, you know.”

“Okay, so let’s get this sorted. You want an ancient pickaxe from an old man named Crescius Caerellius, and you want me to go to Castle Karstaag and get something. What was it?”

“A formula for improved bonemold armour, the type of armour the guards wear,” he explained, seeing the confused look on Elsebet’s face. “I doubt the rieklings actually traded with him, so it’s probably still on his body.”

“Okay, will do. Quick question: where is Crescius Caerellius?” she asked.

He pointed up a path. “In the mine. He’s the owner.”

“Thanks.”

She started up the path, and Marcurio followed her. “Wait, we’re just going to do what this guy asks?”

“He said he’s going to pay us,” she said. “Besides, Miraak’s waited this long for me, he can wait a bit longer.”

“How long ago did he send those cultists after you?” he asked.

She thought for a moment as they neared the door to the mine. “About three months ago.”

She pushed open the door and down a small tunnel leading to a small room with a wood floor and a set of steps leading up to another wooden platform.

“Damn it, woman! I said to leave me be!” an old man, whom Elsebet assumed was Crescius Caerellius, was yelling at a Dunmer woman. 

“Crescius, the last time you explored the mine you almost fell to your death,” the Dunmer told him. “I’m not spending the rest of my days as a widow!”

So they were married.

“And I’m telling you that I’ll do whatever it takes to find my great-grandfather’s remains,” Crescius said. “He’s down here, I can feel it.”

The woman sighed. “That was almost two centuries ago. There may be nothing left to find.”

“Just let me go, woman!”

“Crescius, you’re an obstinate old fool and you’re going to get yourself killed.”

It was then that they noticed Elsebet and Marcurio, and Crescius turned his anger on them.

“Who in the blazes are you?! Can’t you see I’m busy?”

His wife held a hand out to calm her husband, while she spoke to Elsebet and Marcurio. “I’m sorry for Crescius’s ravings.”

“Busy doing what?” Elsebet asked.

He scoffed. “Why should I tell you? I don’t even know who you are.”

“I’m Elsebet Dragonslayer, and this is Marcurio. I’m the Dragonborn, and I’m here to help.”

He blinked at her in surprise. “The Dragonborn? I thought the Dragonborn was a man?”

Marcurio sucked in a breath of air through his teeth. “You shouldn’t’ve said that.”

“Why does everyone assume I’m a man?” she asked. “Can’t I be a woman? I’m here to help, that’s all that matters.”

He hummed. “Maybe. Been difficult trusting people lately, they think I’m crazy.”

“Join the club,” Elsebet said.

“But mark my words, these mines hold a secret that could put Raven Rock back on the map.”

“This is a very small island,” Marcurio said. “Tel Mithryn’s on the map and all it is is three Telvanni fungi houses.”

Elsebet glanced at him, confused, but focused her attention back on Crescius, who ignored what the Imperial mage had said.

“What kinds of secrets would be hidden here?” she asked the old man.

“A secret the East Empire Company swept under the rug two centuries ago.”


	2. I Thought This Was a Mine?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Elsebet and Marcurio descended the rickety ladder that entered the mine, Glover’s Ancient Nordic Pickaxe pumping against Marcurio’s leg, having retrieved it from Crescius Caerellius. When they got to the wooden platform at the top of the deep mine, he glared at Elsebet.

“We came for a pickaxe, and now we’re going through an abandoned mine looking for the bones of some guy’s great-grandfather. Why are you like this?”

She shrugged, a smirk on her face. “I like rewards. Really motivates me to do stuff.”

“And what’s the reward for finding out who Miraak is?” he asked.

“I get to kill him.”

He rolled his eyes and dropped the topic. He cast a candlelight spell, the bright orb hovering a couple inches above his head and casting light in the dark mine they found themselves in.

They went down a ramp that hugged the large circular wall of the mine, and continued going down until the ramp backed up on itself and went under where it had just been.

Marcurio looked over the side of the ramp, over the low wooden fence, and peered into the depths. He gulped, and took a step towards the wall.

“How are you okay with a drop like that?” he asked her.

“I like heights,” she said, shrugging. “Besides, if I fall I have a Shout that lets me receive no damage but doesn’t let me do any damage.”

“You’re so lucky.”

“I know.”

They went over a bridge that went over half of the mine, and into a dug-out passage that was steep, further down into the ground.

“The Dunmer sure know how to make a dangerous mine,” he said.

“Stop complaining,” Elsebet told him, sliding down the slope.

On a small platform made out of wood sat a frostbite spider, an Elsebet shot an arrow through it, pinning it to the platform. She passed it and slid down the next slope, followed by Marcurio.

At the bottom of the passage, where it levelled out, was another frostbite spider. Marcurio sent a fireball at it, rocketing the now-dead spider backwards.

They went through the tunnel, stepping over debris, dodging spiderwebs, and killing frostbite spiders. As they went through, they spotted ore veins, all dried up from something. 

It was the first dried-up mine she’d been to, though it reminded her of her time spent in Cidhna Mine.

Marcurio pulled down some boards that had been nailed over the rest of the passage, giving Elsebet the feeling that the East Empire Trading Company _had_ been hiding something. She shook her head, pulling herself out of those thoughts.

She always caught paranoia easily. She didn’t know why.

Through the wooden boards, to the left, was a locked gate, and Marcurio unlocked it with the key Crescius Caerellius had given them while Elsebet picked the strongbox that rested on top of a stack of crates. Inside was a bunch of gold, a handful of precious gems, a few rings of various type and gems, and a necklace she had never seen before. It was gold, with a ship engraved into it, looking like the symbol of the East Empire Trading Company.

She pocketed everything that was inside the lockbox and followed Marcurio through the gate and down a wooden ramp. The mine started turning into what looked like architecture from an Ancient Nordic crypt, and as she walked through it it turned into one of those rooms that had nooks pressed into the walls, dead bodies at various stages of decay lying on them.

“I think the miners dug into a crypt,” Elsebet said, glancing over at Marcurio.

“I’m not surprised,” he said, “considering how deep the mine goes. But what was here that they locked it up forever?”

She shrugged, and took another step, the sound of draugr waking up filling the chamber they were in.

She swore, and nocked an arrow, looking for where the sound came from. Marcurio set his hands alight with fire, eyes scanning the dark room.

A draugr pounced from the shadows, axe raised above its head as it let out an unearthly shriek. Elsebet acted quickly, aiming her bow at its head, and let the arrow fly. It went through its eye socket and through the back of its head, bouncing off the wall behind it.

The sound of flames filled the room, and Elsebet looked over to see Marcurio torching another draugr, which kept moving towards the mage despite being on fire. Behind it, another draugr came, and she shot it down with an arrow as the draugr that had been on fire fell to the ground, having been almost turned to ash.

Elsebet kept her bow ready, a hand over her shoulder, fingers around the fletching of one of her arrows—which reminded her that she was running out, and needed more—and Marcurio kept his fire spells going.

Elsebet took a couple steps forward, her eyes falling on a spite trap, and she stepped over the pressure plate in the middle of the floor that would activate it. She pointed at it with her foot, and Marcurio stepped over it as well. They rounded the corner, careful not to touch the spike trap, and went up a slope, around more debris and to a small chamber with draugr sitting on chairs. Elsebet wasn’t sure if they were dead-dead or if they were waiting for someone to walk passed them.

She and Marcurio carefully stepped around them, up another slope and into a circular chamber.

The gate closed when they stepped in the middle of the chamber, a lattice of iron bars with water underneath. From behind debris, five draugr stood up from chairs that lined the walls.

Elsebet pulled an arrow out of her quiver and nocked it, aiming it at one of the draugr that was running at her. It jerked backwards, being pulled by the arrow’s momentum, and the next draugr fell with two arrows to the chest. Marcurio set two of them ablaze, and together they killed the last draugr.

When the last draugr fell to the ground dead, an arrow in its heart and half its body burned to a crisp, the gate opened, as well as the one on the side they needed to go through.

They went through an iron door that was behind the gate and went down a passage. At the end of the first passage were two sarcophagi, with a table in between with a soul gem on top of it. Elsebet took it, sighing in relief when the sarcophagi didn’t budge. 

In the second passage was an embalming table with a draugr on top of it, wrapped in linen like it was about to be buried, with two potions at its feet. She pocketed them, and paused in front of a sarcophagus that looked like it was filled with ice. It definitely felt like it, she could feel how cold it was from where she was.

“What is that?” she asked.

Marcurio whistled lowly. “That looks like Stalhrim. Enchanted ice the Skaal use to make weapons and armour. So hard it can’t be mined with a normal pickaxe.”

She hummed. “Must be why Glover wanted his pickaxe back.”

After pocketing another soul gem, a couple coins, and a gem from the table next to the Stalhrim, they continued down the next passage, where at the end was an alchemy table with a shelf on either side filled with ingredients. She let Marcurio take them.

The next passage was the longest of them all, with soul gem traps at the end. Elsebet nocked an arrow and shot one of the soul gems off its pedestal, turning the trap off. She then shot the second soul gem, and the lightning that crossed over the middle of the passage stopped. She picked up the two soul gems and descended the staircase that had been behind the trap. She turned a corner, stepping into a puddle of water that drained through from beneath the double doors in front of her. She looked down at her boots, still wearing her Thieves Guild Masters Armour, which was like the normal Thieves Guild Armour except that it was black and its enchantments were better, and scowled. She hoped the water didn’t go through the leather.

She pushed open the doors, leading to a thin chamber with a waterfall on the other side, and a platform going up and over the water, going deeper into the tomb. From on top of the platform came a shriek of a draugr, and then a Shout.

Elsebet ground her teeth and nocked an arrow, entering the chamber with Marcurio on her heels. He fired his spells at the draugr as two more came down the stairs leading into the stream. Elsebet shot one of them, but by the time it fell down dead the second one was too close.

“ _YOL!_ ”

The fire burned the inside of her throat as it exited her mouth, surrounding the draugr but not killing it. She unsheathed Chillrend, keeping her Nightingale Bow in the other, and cut the draugr’s chest open before stabbing it in the stomach, all the way to the hilt.

The draugr’s blue eyes extinguished, and she pulled her sword out of it, sheathing it as Marcurio killed the other draugr that had swarmed him.

They went up the platform and over the bridge to the other side, where instead of a way forward, there was a handle. Elsebet grabbed it, pulled it up out of the pedestal it sat on, twisted it, then pushed it back into the pedestal.

A gate on the other side of the bridge opened. Elsebet and Marcurio made their way over and through the passage behind it. At the end of the passage were two more passages leading in the opposite directions—one leading to a pedestal with a book on it, and the other leading to a spiral ramp that lead to the next floor.

Elsebet decided to get the book.

She walked up to it and took it, noticing that it was a spell tomb, though which spell she wasn’t sure, and didn’t have a chance to look as an arc of lightning was thrown at her, and Marcurio pulled her away from the pedestal before it hit her.

“Thanks,” she said.

He nodded, and they made their way back to the other passage, going up the spiral ramp and doubling back over the way they came, just above it. In the middle of the top of the spiral ramp was a wooden bow and a quiver of iron arrows, and Elsebet realised that she needed to shoot what had sent lightning at her.

She pulled the arrows out of the quiver on the floor and stuck them into her own quiver, not caring that they mixed with the steel and orcish ones already in the quiver, then made her way to the edge of the platform. Below where she stood was where she had taken the book, and on the other side of the chamber was a pedestal with a soul gem on top of it.

Elsebet nocked an arrow and aimed it at the soul gem, then let go of the bowstring. It bounced off the soul gem, knocking it off its pedestal and disabling the trap.

She led the way over the bridge that hugged the wall, made out of wood, that led to the other side of the chamber. She picked up the soul gem that was rolling on the floor and continued around the chamber, following the passage. They ended up going through a bridge that had an iron cage around it, and when Elsebet looked down she realised it was because they were high up, above the chamber they had fought the draugr in just a couple minutes earlier. They went up a slope in the passage, passed a sarcophagus in the middle that stayed closed as they passed, and up the top of a staircase.

But when Elsebet opened the doors at the top, she realised the passage had caved in. Quickly picking the lock of a chest that had been buried in the debris, pocketing everything inside, she went back down the staircase, wondering where she had to go to continue.

“There’s a tunnel through there,” Marcurio said, pointing to a tunnel that was indeed there, opposite the lone sarcophagi.

She nodded at him in thanks and led the way through the thin tunnel, having to squeeze between two rocks at one point. It twisted and turned, until it opened into a cavern, the end of the tunnel stopping dead with no way down to the floor below.

But as she had stopped abruptly, Marcurio plowed into her. Her footing slipped, and she reached to grab anything she could to stop her from falling, but that something ended up being the neckline of Marcurio’s robes. Together, they fell to the floor, and landed harshly on top of one another.

“Sorry,” she groaned, untangling her limbs from his.

He huffed, pushing himself to his feet, dusting off his robes, looking up at the tunnel they had just fallen out of. “Well, there’s no way back there. Looks like that giant door over there is our only way out.”

She blinked, not understanding him, before she looked over and saw that there was, indeed, a giant door on the other side of the cavern. It was strange, one she’d never seen before, and she made her way over to it, stepping over the skeleton that laid in front of it.

Her fingers touched the door, tapping at the carvings, wondering how it opened. The carvings on it glowed red, like magic, and there was a line on either side of the large circular stone door that were the same colour, but glowed brightly.

“Look at this,” she heard Marcurio say, and she looked over her shoulder at him to see him kneeling over the skeleton.

She made her way over to him as he picked up a massive sword, one she’d never seen before.

She kneeled down on the other side of the skeleton, and noticed that there was a leather-bound journal. She picked it up and opened it, the first page saying it belonged to Gratian Caerellius.

“This must be Crescius’s great-grandfather,” she said, not taking her eyes off the book. “Gratian Caerellius.”

She turned to the next page and read the journal.

_30 Rain’s Hand 4E10_

_Received a letter from the East Empire Company today. They said that some of the miners broke through the wall in shaft three of Raven Rock Mine and found some ruins. I hope this isn’t another waste of time like that fiasco they sent me to in Cyrodiil. I’ll gather my assistant, Millius and sail back to Raven Rock at first light… it’ll be nice to see the old house in Solstheim again._

_7 Second Seed 4E10_

_Finally arrived in Raven Rock and was surprised by the number of dark elf refugees living in town. They aren’t really from mining stock, but I think they’ll make fine workers one day. Millius and I spent a good part of the day clearing the ash off of the roof of my house. The damn volcano is still erupting almost day and night. If it wasn’t for the ash covering everything it would almost look beautiful._

_8 Second Seed 4E10_

_Millius and I are headed into Raven Rock Mine to have a look at whatever it is the miners uncovered. I think I’ll stop by the old Swing and Scoop and pick up a few supplies before we head down. Couldn’t hurt to be prepared._

_9 Second Seed 4E10_

_Looks like the miners broke right through the wall of an old Nordic Barrow. I’ve seen this sort of thing in Skyrim before… damn Nords have barrows dotting the landscape and almost none of them are ever marked on any maps. Looks like this barrow belong to something called the “Bloodskaal Clan.” I’m going to take some rubbings of the inscriptions on the tombs and see if I can’t learn some more information from the history books._

_10 Second Seed 4E10_

_It’s been a few days and I can’t find even a single mention of this clan anywhere. Millius and I decided to proceed ahead. We’ve come to a dropdown point, but I can see a massive chamber below. Took the better part of the day to lower everything down and climb down the almost sheer drop._

_11 Second Seed 4E10_

_It’s been an astonishing day of discovery! After exploring the large chamber beyond the dropoff, I was startled to find the strangest weapon I’ve ever laid eyes upon sitting on a pedestal of sorts. The blade appears to be flawless, and is emitting a faint chilling glow. Bits of parchment I found about the chamber seem to call this “The Bloodskaal Blade.” Not certain if I should remove it yet, I’ll sleep on it._

_12 Second Seed 4E10_

_I’ve decided against my own better judgement to remove the Bloodskaal Blade from its pedestal. Millius seems completely against it, but we need to bring this wonderful artefact with us when we find a way out of the barrow._

_13 Second Seed 4E10_

_I should’ve listened to Millius. The moment the blade was lifted, we were set upon by draugr. Millius fought bravely, but he fell. I was able to destroy the remaining ones, but I was badly wounded. I can barely stand. My only chance would be finding a way out of this place. But I fear that I am trapped._

_14? Second Seed 4E10_

_Exploring has been slow. I can only move for maybe a few minutes at a time before I have to rest. My supplies are running low, and I’m feeling weaker by the hour. The only progress I’ve made is finding a strange door with markings on it that I’ve never seen._

_There appears to be something to them I’m missing, as they’ve confounded my attempts at getting through. I’ll have to study this further in order to make any progress… barely can keep awake._

_I’m fairly certain that the key to the door involves the use of the Bloodskaal Blade. When swinging the weapon, I’m noticing a ribbon of mystical energy emanating from it. I think by swinging the sword in different directions, it’s possible to manipulate this ribbon and solve whatever puzzle this door presents. I hope to get well enough to put this to the test soon… each swing is a huge effort._

_Last entry_

_I’ve lost track of time and my strength is fading. I can’t even stand anymore. My wounds refuse to heal. I’m afraid this tomb will become my resting place. If anyone finds this journal, please send these notes to my superiors at the East Empire Company and tell my wife I love her._

_May Arkay guide me to my final rest._

“I know how to open the door,” Elsebet said, closing the journal with a resounding _snap_.

Marcurio blinked at her. “You do?”

“Yup. Just give me the sword, and step back.”

Confused, he did. She stood up, carrying the sword in one hand despite the fact that it was big enough to be a two-handed weapon. She walking up to the door, making sure to stay a couple metres away so what she was about to do works, and angled herself so she was looking at the horizontal line on the left side of the door.

She gripped the handle with both hands and lifted it, then swung it across her body. 

Just like the journal said, a ribbon of red energy came out of the tip of the Bloodskaal Blade. It sailed through the air until it connected it the line on the wall.

For a second, nothing happened.

And then the door began to rumble. The panel above the line sank into the wall, and the panel below it slid up, a new line glowing at the point of contact, diagonal now.

She grinned and looked over at Marcurio. He was blinking at her in surprise.

She turned back to the door and held the sword aloft. Time to unlock the rest of the door.

She kept swinging the sword, creating the ribbons of energy, in the direction of the wall, hitting them as they came up, until there was a single ribbon of energy going through the crack in the door, and she swung it one more time.

The door rumbled open, Elsebet panting at the exertion of swinging a magic sword multiple times, and wanted to drop it but knew she would regret it. Instead, she got Marcurio to help secure it to her back, pointing over her left shoulder while her quiver pointed over her right shoulder, and she gripped her Nightingale Bow in her hand as she went through the door and entered a corridor that looked like a Hall of Stories.

But, of course, there were also swinging axes at various points in the hall.

When she and Marcurio got to them, Elsebet used her Whirlwind Shout to get through them, while Marcurio had to go the old fashioned way of stepping through them, hoping not to get hit.

Luckily, he didn’t.

At the end of the hall wasn’t a Puzzle Door like there usually was, but a gate with a level on a pedestal in front of it. She pulled it, and the gate opened, the axes behind her stopping their swinging, and they entered a chamber with stone platforms built on top of a pool of water, a chest at the end of the platform and a Word Wall on the other side of the chamber.

She could feel the power emanating from the Wall even on the opposite side of the chamber, and the chanting was faint in her ears. Marcurio let out a low whistle as he walked in beside her, his eyes on the Wall.

“So, that’s a Word Wall. They say only the Dragonborn can learn the knowledge hidden in the writing,” he said. He looked at her. “Is it true?”

She nodded, not able to speak. The power was drawing her closer, over the edge of the platform and to it. But she could feel that there was something wrong, that there was something powerful and ancient in between them.

But she couldn’t stop. She needed that power.

She stepped into the water, and she felt the ancient power surge, both familiar and foreign at the same time.

And the power had a name, one she had never heard before, but held as much power as a Dragon Priest she had encountered many months ago.

She stopped in her tracks and spoke the name.

“ _Zahkriisos_.”


	3. A Powerful Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

A hand appeared on Elsebet’s arm, and she continued staring ahead as Marcurio pulled her out of the water, but it was too late. They had— _she_ had—just woken up a Dragon Priest.

Zahkriisos floated up from a table submerged in the water and righted himself, floating above the water with a staff in one hand and a lightning spell in the other.

Elsebet swallowed the bile that was rising in her throat, and she pulled her arm out of Marcurio’s grip. Quickly, while the Dragon Priest was still getting his bearings, she pulled the Bloodskaal Blade off her back and rested it on the floor by her feet, needing to be as quick as she could to dodge whatever attacks Zahkriisos was going to send her way.

She thought back to when she fought Nahkriin. She had landed two good shots on him before he had detected her, but now she didn’t have the element of surprise. She also had the liberty to use her Storm Call Shout, which she couldn’t here, because she was deep underground and not in open air, where she could summon a storm.

She went through the list of Shouts she had while her head pounded with the chanting of the Word Wall on the other side of the room. Zahkriisos charged up his lightning spell, but Marcurio hit him with a barrage of flames.

_That’s right_ , she thought, her eyes widening. _I was alone last time. Now, I have help_.

And that reminded her of another Shout she had.

Grinding her teeth, her Thu’um thudded in her throat, and she spoke the three Words she hadn’t yet spoken, yet got months earlier.

“ _HUN KAAL ZOOR!_ ”

The Shout left her body, a hazy blue, and gathered on the ground in front of where she stood, forming the spirit of a body from the feet up. After it had been created, the man pulled his battleaxe off his back and roared thunderously, charging at Zahkriisos as he sent lightning at Elsebet.

She rolled out of the way, nocking an arrow quickly and firing it at the undead Priest. It hit the target dead-on, square in the chest, but he only seemed slightly fazed.

Marcurio kept hammering him with flame spells, Elsebet hitting him with arrows, and the Hero that Elsebet realised was Hakon One-Eye slashed at him with his battleaxe.

But, they weren’t doing much damage. Whoever he had been while he was alive, he must have been extremely powerful.

Zahkriisos aimed a lightning spell at the water, electrifying the entire pool. Hakon One-Eye’s spirit disappeared, much like all summoned things do, and Marcurio was launched out of the water. Elsebet, who had been standing on dry land, let out a battlecry, dropping her bow and unsheathing her two swords.

As soon as the water was safe to enter, Elsebet launched herself towards Zahkriisos, swords out to the sides, ready to attack him, and he pulled his hand back and charged up another lightning spell as she neared.

He thrust his hand out, meaning for her to run straight into it, but she slid onto her knees and pulled her body back, sliding beneath his arm. As soon as she was clear of him, she climbed to her feet and ran at the Word Wall that had been pounding inside her head, the chanting now deafening and drowning out all other sound.

She turned around as she got to the Word Wall and backed up until her back was pressed against it, watching as Zahkriisos turned around, his decaying toes skimming the top of the water as he started floating over to her.

She reached her arm out and slapped it on the Word Wall, above the glowing Word, and gasped as power filled her veins in a way she had never felt before, like armour and hide and strength.

A fireball came careening at the Dragon Priest, hitting him on the arm. Elsebet looked over to see Marcurio standing on the platform on the other side of the room, his hair, which had previously been in a ponytail, standing on end like an afro around his head.

Elsebet’s new Shout forced itself up her throat, begging to be used, and she obliged.

“ _MUL!_ ”

The Shout was like no other she had used, leaving her mouth and surrounding her body much like her Become Ethereal Shout did, but instead of changing her, it turned into armour—a translucent armour in shades of orange and blue, but it didn’t seem _full_.

Twisting the blades in her hands, Elsebet launched herself at Zahkriisos, dodging the lightning he shot at her and slashed at his chest. He put up a ward, stopping the enchantments on the swords but not the actual swords, and they cut his chest, and ash started pouring out of them.

The ward lowered, and Elsebet slashed at the hand holding the staff that he had not yet used with the Nightingale Blade, making it fall to the ground, and stabbed him with Chillrend, ice starting to form around the wound from how cold the enchantment was.

When she pulled Chillrend out of his chest, he turned to ash, leaving only his mask floating in the water. Elsebet sheathed her swords and picked it up, rubbing away the ash that was inside the hood and squeezing it of water.

The mask was different than the one Nahkriin had worn. While that one had been bronze with eye holes and a mouth hole, this one was made of what looked like ebony, with only eye holes and no mouth, and looked slightly draconic.

“All that for a _mask?_ ” Marcurio asked from where he stood on the platform.

She looked up at him. “Dragon Priest masks are extremely powerful.”

She picked up the staff as well, knowing she would be able to sell it, and went over to where she had dropped her bow and then the Bloodskaal Blade. She placed the mask in her pack and secured the Blade to her back, and gave the staff to Marcurio. She held her bow in her hand as she searched through the chest, taking everything that was inside.

The way out of the mine was through a passage next to the one they entered the chamber from. They walked through it, until they got to a circular room with a pedestal in the middle, a book resting on top of it.

But it was unlike any book she had seen ever seen before. It was thick, and black, with a tentacled monster on the cover. It radiated power, a dark and ancient power, but familiar.

Like she was in a trance, she reached for the cover and went to lift it.

Marcurio stopped her by grabbing her wrist. “I don’t think you should open that.”

Blinking, she shook her head. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t. But I’m taking it.”

She pulled it off the pedestal and placed it in her pack. Once she knew what it was, she’d open it then. Maybe she could talk to the Dunmer she had seen near the Earth Stone.

They went up the spiral staircase, and went through an iron door.

* * *

Rune had tried not to think about Elsebet. He really did. But he couldn’t deny his feelings for her, and he needed to see her again.

The only problem was that he had no idea where she went, and no idea how to find her.

Six days after her departure, he was getting antsy. He had wanted to follow her when she left, but Arcaelo had instead, and he missed his chance.

Arcaelo was doing a good job of running the Thieves Guild, though. Despite it only being six days, they had more clients, and there were a bunch of new thieves that had joined.

But that didn’t change the fact that he missed Elsebet.

He was wandering through the tunnels, going back to the Cistern from the training room, when Arcaelo stopped him.

“You know, I heard the Dragonborn was spotted in Solstheim,” she said. “Maybe she could help you find Elsebet.”

And then she walked off.

He blinked. He hadn’t even thought about asking the Dragonborn for help. And he knew she helped people, she had helped Elsebet once.

Maybe, since she knew her, she knew where she was.

So, Solstheim it was. He now had to find a way to get there, because to his knowledge, it was an island of the coast of Morrowind.

He hurried to the Cistern and found Brynjolf talking with Karliah. It was strange for her to be there, because for years he had been told that Karliah had been evil, when it was in fact Mercer that was evil, and not her.

He got the attention of the Nord. “I’m not going to be here for a while.”

Brynjolf blinked. “Why?”

“I’m going to Solstheim, to look for the Dragonborn,” he said. “Maybe she can help me find Elsebet.”

Brynjolf and Karliah shared a look, like they knew something Rune didn’t, and weren’t sure if they should tell him.

He looked back at the Imperial. “Okay. When you find her, tell her we said hi."

* * *

 

Brynjolf watched as Rune grinned, thanked him, and went over to his bed and started packing.

Next to him, Karliah sighed. “I don’t like lying to him.”

“It’s better he learned by himself,” he said. “Besides, she’d have our heads if she realised we told. She doesn’t want to be known as the Dragonborn.” 

The Dunmer nodded. “I understand. But that doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”


	4. Delving Deep... Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

When Elsebet woke up the day after delving into the Raven Rock Mine, she wasn’t in a bed in the Retching Netch. Instead, she was hammering away at a massive arch in what looked like a temple.

It took her a couple seconds for her to realise where she was. It must’ve been Miraak’s Temple, because it was massive, with a Stone in the middle.

She thought back to the day before. After killing Zahkriisos and picking up the weird book at the bottom of Raven Rock Mine, they found that it was connected to Bloodskaal Barrow, and they had to fight off dozens of dark elf bandits—reavers, as they called them on Solstheim—and then trudged back to Raven Rock, the sun having set ages ago. She had given Gratian Caerellius’s journal to Crescius, and had taken the Ancient Nordic pickaxe back to Glover, but he said that it was just a lesson not to take things that don’t belong to him—despite the fact that the man saying that was a thief—and that they could keep it.

They had rented out a room in the Retching Netch, the only tavern in Raven Rock, and probably all of Solstheim, and had paid enough gold to be there for a month, just so they had a place to store their stuff, like the Bloodskaal Blade and Zahkriisos’s mask.

And then they had gone to sleep. And she woke up to a light snowfall.

She stepped away from the arch and blinked, confused. She looked around and saw Marcurio not far from her, moving rocks and boulders.

And, down near the Stone, was a Nord woman dressed in thick furs, pleading with other Nords in thick furs to fight whatever was making them build.

“Ysra, I’m here to help you!” the woman was shouting.

Grabbing Marcurio by the arm, Elsebet pulled him down the stairs to where the woman was.

When they approached, Marcurio still struggling to get back to work, the woman turned to Elsebet.

“You there. What brings you to this place? Why are you here?”

“Who are you?” she asked, confused that she wasn’t under the command of whoever it was that made them build.

“I am Frea of the Skaal,” she said. “I am here to either save my people, or avenge them.”

“Save them from what?” Marcurio asked, finally back to reality.

She shook her head sadly. “I am unsure. Something has taken control of most of the people on Solstheim. It makes them forget themselves, and work on these horrible creations that corrupt the Stones, the very land itself. My father Storn, our shaman, says Miraak has returned to Solstheim, but that is impossible.”

“This Miraak tried to have me killed,” Elsebet told her.

“Then you and I both have reason to see what lies beneath us. Let us go. There is nothing more I can do here. The Tree Stone and my friends are beyond my help for now. We need to find a way into the temple below.”

Elsebet nodded, and saw a ramp that lead into the temple. She started down it, when a fireball was thrown at her head. She ducked, taking her bow off her back and nocking an arrow, aiming it at a cultist that came up the ramp, hands alight with spells, another cultist behind them.

Her arrow sailed through the air as Marcurio launched a lightning spell at the second cultist, hitting the first cultist in the face and breaking the mask, showing that her opponent was a Dunmer woman. Another arrow to the neck killed her, and the second cultist fell as well.

“Are they like the ones that attacked you before?” Marcurio asked, coming up behind her with Frea on his tail.

She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s just enter. I want to end this.”

They nodded, and followed her down the rest of the ramp and into the temple.

The entrance was much like every other Ancient Nordic structure, digging into the earth with the same architecture. On the sides of the passage were doors to rooms, and a quick look through them showed that they were mostly empty.

They went down the stairs at the end of the passage and around a corner, into a small room with a thin staircase leading further down into the ground.

Two cultists came up the stairs, wards up and ready for them. They were killed quickly, their bodies falling back down the staircase.

The three of them went down the staircase as well, and around a corner into a small circular chamber.

“We must be careful in these ruins. Traps can be anywhere, and there are likely to be many,” Frea said. “Miraak was trying to take power here, and protect himself in the process.

Elsebet and Marcurio nodded. After the former pocketed a soul gem that was in a soul gem pedestal, she led the way deeper into the ruins. Ironically, there was a trap in the next room, but they were just pressure plate that were easy to step over.

There was another small staircase, and Marcurio pulled a chain that opened a gate in front of them, leading to a tall chamber that had a high platform on the right with a staircase leading down deeper in the centre of the room. Above that hole were cages hanging on chains connected to the roof, a skeleton in each of them.

Frea looked at them sadly. “I do not wish to imagine the kind of things that happened in this chamber. Who were the poor souls trapped in these cages? What tortures did they suffer at Miraak’s hands? Was it in service to the dragons, or for his own purposes?” She looked at the platform to the right and pointed to it. “Look up there. I think I see something. The stairs are knocked out. I have no doubt that you can find a way up. You never know, you might find something of value up there. I shall look around. We can proceed when you are ready.”

Elsebet made her way to the stairs that were, indeed, knocked out, but not enough that she couldn’t jump and reach the top of it. Taking a running start that ached her knee, she scrambled up with her feet, grabbed the edge of the platform with her fingers, and hauled herself up.

There was a chest at the top, and after looting it she climbed back down to the ground and started around the hole in the ground.

Only, when she neared two sarcophagi on the other side of the room, they opened, the lids falling onto the floor with a resounding _bang_ , the draugr stepping out.

She pulled her bow off her back and nocked an arrow, aiming it at the nearest draugr, and letting it loose. It struck true, thudding into its chest, but it kept approaching. It was downed with anotherarrow, and one of Marcurio’s fireballs hit the other draugr, sending it into the wall.

With the draugr dead, the three of them regrouped, and started down the staircase in the middle of the room.

At the bottom were two cultists that were walking up, but they were killed quickly, and they continued through the tunnel and down another staircase, the tunnel turning into a burial hall, with skeletons in niches dug into the wall.

Their entrance was blocked by a gate, and Elsebet used the handle next to the door to open it, leading into another burial hall that’s roof had started caving in, debris littering the floor everywhere. They weaved their way through the hall, killing whatever draugr woke up as they passed, until they got to a swinging spike trap with two pressure plates on the floor to activate it, instead of the usual one. On the other side of the trap were two hallways, both with a draugr patrolling it.

After passing the trap, they went down the left hall, killing the draugr that was there, and when the halls converged again they stepped over another pressure plate in front of a door, walking through a Hall of Stories with swinging blades, much like the one in Raven Rock Mine the day before.

Frea shook her head. “I am not going down there. It would be foolish to attempt it. You have a much better chance than I to make it through these traps. I have no doubt that lever turns these blades off. I shall wait here for now.”

Marcurio nodded. “I’m staying with her.”

After giving him a disbelieving look, Elsebet walked up to the first set of swinging blades, watching its pattern, and waiting for the right moment to go through it.

She didn’t know what Frea had expected her to do, but she knew that it wasn’t what she did.

“ _WULD!_ ”

She rocketed forward, passed the blades that swung at her head and stopped almost to the next set. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that Frea’s mouth was hanging open, blinking like she couldn’t believe it.

With a smirk, Elsebet turned back and Shouted again, passing that set of swinging blades. She continued Shouting until she was at the end of the Hall, and pulled the lever she was now next to.

And, just as the Skaal woman had said, the blades stopped swinging, and the gate that had blocked the rest of the ruin opened up.

Elsebet waited for Frea and Marcurio to catch up beefier she went to walk through the doorway, but Frea grabbed her wrist to keep her from moving. Elsebet responded by punching her in the face, from the panic that entered her, Frea’s touch feeling like Mercer’s.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, stepping away from the Skaal woman and pulling her hands to her chest. “I-I didn’t mean to! It was a reflex!”

“Your reflex is punching someone?” she asked, nursing her cheek where Elsebet’s fists had collided with her face.

“I haven’t had the best nine months,” Elsebet said. “I’m sorry, just—please don’t touch me again.”

Frea nodded. “It is alright, Dragonborn,” she said.

A small smile appeared on Elsebet’s face, and she turned back to the doorway, where she saw Marcurio standing with wide eyes. He stepped away from her as she passed, shaking her fist in slight pain. She hadn’t punched anyone in a while, and her knuckles were sore.

“Miraak took great pains to make it difficult to reach him,” Frea said, lowering her hand. There was already a slight bruise on her cheek, but she didn’t seem fazed by it. Let us hope it is the last of these traps.”

They went through the passage that was on the opposite side of the doorway, a slope digging deeper into the ground. Already, it was pretty deep, about as deep as an average Dwemer ruin, and she wasn’t sure if was going to go deeper or not.

They turned a corner, where at the end was a door. They opened it, leading into a rubble-filled room, with a gate on the wall but no way through. The three of them split up looking for a lever or chain that could open it up, Elsebet going into a walled-off hall. As soon as she entered it a sarcophagus opened up, the lid falling to the floor, but so did the draugr inside.

With her heart beating erratically in her chest, she went down the hall and saw a pull handle at the end of it. She pulled it, and when it went back into the pedestal she heard the gate open. She made her way back, and saw Frea and Marcurio already there.

Through the gate, a ramp lowered onto the top of a staircase, and as they made their way down it into the chamber, three more ramps on the other side of the chamber opened, the middle one revealing a cultist, and the other two revealing draugr with bows.

Elsebet shot at the draugr on the left, the arrow piercing its shoulder. Another arrow appeared in its neck, and it fell to the ground. Meanwhile, Marcurio was attacking the cultist with his fire spells, but they had a ward up, but that couldn’t last long without their magicka depleting. Frea charged at the draugr on the right with her two axes raised, dodging the arrows shot at her. When she reached the draugr she hacked and slashed at it, reducing it into a pile of rotten flesh and ancient armour in a matter of seconds.

She and Elsebet turned to help Marcurio as the cultist’s ward failed, and Marcurio sent a powerful fireball at them, knocking them backwards and into the wall. They didn’t move.

Huffing, the three of them made their way to the door at the end of the chamber. Elsebet pushed the door open, and went down the stairs and onto a caged bridge high above a massive cavern.

“I do not know what it is that Miraak learned that gave him reason to turn on his masters,” Frea said. “But his path seems to have been a cruel one.”

They got off the bridge, and up a set of stairs as a pair of skeletons turned the corner. They unsheathed their weapons and started running at them as an arrow hit the first skeleton’s skull, knocking it off and turning the skeleton into a pile of bones.

Marcurio sent a fireball at the second one as a third skeleton careened around the corner, a bow in hand, and slowly began to nock an arrow. But before it could even pull back on the bowstring, it was hit with an arrow, and all of the skeleton’s bones scattered around the hall.

They turned the corner to see a skeleton run at them, and Frea threw one of her axes at it, also knocking into the skeleton behind it. Elsebet shot an arrow at another one, and Marcurio sent sparks at the last skeleton.

They went down the set of stairs in front of them and walked through the hall, dodging swinging log traps and killing two draugr. They turned the corner, and the hall turned into a cave passage, and into a large cavern, one which they had been through before, in the caged bridge.

Frea looked down a passage that had a set of stairs going up. “Interesting. This may be worth exploring.

They went through the passage, up the stairs and around a corner. Inside a small room were three Ancient Nordic tables, full of gold, soul gems, and a couple potions. After splitting it between the three of them, they went back to the cavern, where there was a set of stone platforms, with cultists coming up a set of stairs.

They were killed easily, and the three of them went down the passage they had come from, and going deeper into the earth.

“How much deeper can this be?” Frea asked. “I had been told that Miraak’s power was great, but to have built so large a temple… It cannot be much further now. I feel it in my bones.”

Marcurio gave her a weird look and followed Elsebet further down into the Temple of Miraak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I am going to be doing this story for NaNoWriMo, I am going to put it on hold until November, so I can focus on 'Hero' and 'Adventures of an Innkeeper's Daughter' for the next month. As soon as the first of November comes, I am going to write the rest of chapter 5 and post it on here. Just letting you know there is going to be a short hiatus.


	5. Another Weird Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's a couple days into NaNoWriMo and I'm doing terribly. But oh well, here's chapter 5.

Before Elsebet even entered the next room, she could hear the chanting of a Word Wall, deep and ancient.

The room was small, with a sarcophagi on one wall with a chest next to it, a Word Wall taking up the entire left side of the room, and four more sarcophagi on the right side. 

As they entered the room, the sarcophagi opened, and five draugr stepped out of them. Elsebet shot an arrow at the one from the lone sarcophagus, a weird-looking helmet on top of its head. Marcurio and Frea started attacking the other draugr as the arrow thudded into the draugr’s chest, but it didn’t faze it at all. The draugr unsheathed a sword, ebony instead of the usual Ancient Nordic, and swung it at Elsebet.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

She was rocketed back into the hall, the Shout coming out of the draugr’s mouth, and hit the staircase hard. She pushed herself to her feet as the draugr shambled over to her, and fury filled her.

“ _YOL!_ ”

Fire exploded from her mouth, and surrounded the draugr as it entered the passage. As it burned, she peppered him with arrows, but no matter how many she shot, it would not die.

It started shambling towards her again, effectively containing her into the staircase, which was not good for her.

She got an idea, but she didn’t know if it would work. She had never used two Shouts right after the other, but she had to do it, just to give her some room.

“ _ZUN!_ "

The Shout, a deep purple, pulsed as it sailed through the stairwell, wrapping itself around the draugr’s sword and wrenching it out of its grip, not far away but enough to confuse him.

And then she Shouted again.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

The boom sounded throughout the ruin, and the draugr was pulled to the other side of the room, almost like a rag doll, and fell to the floor.

Although she had been able to Shout twice, she felt incredibly weak and tired, like she had been awake for two days straight. A funny feeling appeared in her chest, and the chanting from the Word Wall pounded inside her head.

She nocked another arrow and fired, the arrow going through the draugr’s heart, but it still got up.

She put her bow on her back and unsheathed her swords, stumbling slightly as she made her way over to it.

And then she cut off its head.

By then, Marcurio and Frea finished the other draugr, all a lot weaker than the one Elsebet had fought.

As she sheathed her weapons, she stumbled over to the Word Wall, knowing they always increased her stamina for a little while, and slammed her hand over the glowing Word, ignoring what the carvings said.

As she slid down the Wall, legs too weak to hold her up, the energy filled her, and one of the two dragon souls left inside of her was used up to unlock the second word of the Dragon Aspect Shout.

She only had one left. She’d have to use it cautiously.

Full of energy she hadn’t had literally seconds earlier, she bounded to her feet, and made her way to the door that was hidden in the strong draugr’s sarcophagus, but when she tried the handle she found that it was locked.

She frowned at it, and looked over her shoulder at the dead draugr. On the floor between its severed head and its neck was a key on a leather cord, and she bent down and picked it up, then went back to the door and unlocked it.

When she pushed opened the doors, it was a bit anti-climactic, as there was only a long table in the middle of the small room with two thrones behind it, and a door in the wall close behind the thrones. They made their way to it, and Elsebet unlocked it with the key she used to unlock the last door.

Behind it wassmall passage leading into what looked like a dining room, with rows of tables and chairs and bowls, plates, cups, and cutlery set up them, except for where they had been knocked off by fallen debris.

They continued through another small passage, but it led to a dead end.

“Dead end? Impossible,” Frea said. “There must be something more. Look around. I will tell you if I find anything in the dining area.”

Elsebet nodded, and she and Marcurio looked around the kitchen, but couldn’t find anything. Not a door, a trapdoor, or anything that could activate a secret door.

But when Elsebet went to go back to the dining hall and tell Frea this, she saw a passage between the kitchen and the dining hall that she hadn’t seen before, and she went down it. Halfway down, there was a pull handle, and she pulled it.

Frea let out a cry of relief. “I knew it! A secret passage in the dining area just opened up. This must be it. Let’s keep moving.”

Elsebet and Marcurio made their way over to her, and she led the way through the passage. It twisted around, until it opened into a circular room with a grate over a hole in the middle, unable to be opened where they were. It was also empty.

“I wonder if there is something here that tells the story of Miraak…” Frea wondered aloud. “Nothing but ruined books.”

They made their way to the next room, which was identical to the last one except for the spiral staircase in the middle of the room leading down underneath a grate, and three draconic head statues on the other side of the room with a pull handle in front of it to open the grate.

Frea looked at the statues. “I do not recognise this statuary. We passed by a few of them earlier, but they are becoming more frequent as we get further in.” She shook her head. “I do not like this place. It’s almost as if these statues will come to life at any moment.” She nodded at the handle in front of the statues. “It looks like there is only one way to proceed. I will leave the honour of pulling that handle to you. I do not want to put my hand anywhere near the mouth of that statue.”

As Elsebet said earlier, she catches other people’s paranoia very easily.

“I’m not going near it,” she said, crossing her arms.

Marcurio groaned. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

He made his way over to it and pulled the handle, the grate opening and the statue staying still. Elsebet sighed in relief, and led the way down the wooden staircase.

A floor below where they were before, with a grate underneath their feet showing that it went down further, they got to the end of the staircase and went through a small passage to another circular room, underneath the first room from before, and down another circular wooden staircase. They backtracked underneath the first staircase, draconic braziers in the middle of the circular rooms and passing through three of the circular rooms before turning down a dead-end passage with a handle next to it.

Elsebet pulled the handle, and the stone in front of her lowered, showing another circular staircase leading further into the earth.

At the bottom of the staircase they came into a small antechamber, with a dragon head hanging above a brazier on a pillar. One look at it told her that it was real, and wasn’t a statue.

Around the pillar, it opened into a massive chamber with stairs that gradually ascended, with Ancient Nordic arches over everything, statuary between the arches, and the skeletal remains of a dragon’s wings adorning the middle strip far in front of them.

The room was infested with draugr and skeletons, and they were all quickly downed as the trio advanced through the chamber, glad they were finally going up instead of down. After quickly looting a chest at the end, they pulled a chain that revealed the next passage that lead to what Elsebet knew was the end of the Temple of Miraak.

The passage opened into a circular room with strange grated flooring and walls, with a pedestal with a black book in the middle of the room, in front of an empty draconic brazier. On the front of the book was a tentacle monster, and it radiated an ancient and forbidden power, much more than the book they had found the day before.

Which was identical to the book in front of her.

Even with Marcurio there to tell her not to open the book, she found herself being drawn to it, much like she was drawn to all power, and she stopped in front of it, hands reaching up as Frea spoke.

“There are dark magics at work here. Ready yourself. This book… It seems wrong, somehow… Here, yet… not. It may be what we seek.”

And it was those words that made her open the book.

She pried the cover off its pages and read the title: Waking Dreams of A Starless Sky by Bilius Felcrex.

And then she felt something wrap around her, power and what felt like slime, and pulled her into the book.

She was falling, and then she landed on her feet in a place she didn’t know that seemed to be made out of books. Everything had a green undertone, and there were pages littering the floor and floating around the air, the walls imbedded with books, burned and dark. The sky was a sickening green, and the ground beneath the platform she stood on was a sea of black liquid and tentacles.

And in front of her was a man in robes with a weird-looking mask on, sort of like the ones the cultists wore, but more powerful. His back was to her, and he was surrounded by tentacle creatures, a dragon flying overhead.

“The time comes soon when… What?”

Elsebet stood still as the man turned around, and sparks erupted from his hands, hitting her in the chest. She let out a cry, and fell to her knees, her palms hitting the paper-covered floor.

The man took a couple steps towards her, and as she looked up at him through her curtain of hair, the name _Miraak_ forced itself into her mind. The dragon landed behind him, but didn’t try to attack. _Sahrotaar_.

“Who are you to dare set foot in here?” Miraak asked her in a deep, booming voice. “Ahh… you are Dragonborn. I can feel it. And yet… So you have slain Alduin… Well done. I could have slain him myself, back when I walked the earth, but I chose a different path.” His tone changed dramatically, then, turning angry. “You have no idea of the true power a Dragonborn can wield! _MUL QAH DIIV!_ ”

His body was encased in a ethereal dragon skin, much like what had happened to Elsebet in the depths of Bloodskaal Barrow, against Zahkriisos, but much more powerful than her one.

“This realm is beyond you. You have no power here. And it is only a matter of time before Solstheim is also mine. I already control the minds of its people. Soon they will finish building my temple, and I can return home. Send her back where she came from. She can await my arrival with the rest of Tamriel.”

The weird tentacle creatures turned to her as Miraak turned away, and unleashed blasts of energy that felt like it was pushing me out of wherever I was and back to the depths of Miraak’s Temple. Through the pain, she saw Miraak mount Sahrotaar’s neck, and the serpentine dragon flew off, towards a high tower in the distance.

She felt like she was falling again, and then she snapped back into the strange room with the strange book, and she almost fell backwards. A pair of hands caught her, and Marcurio helped stabilise her. She smiled at him in thanks.

Frea stared at her like she had seen a ghost. “What happened to you? You read the book and then… It seemed as though you were not really here. I could see you, but also see through you!”

Elsebet blinked at her in surprise. She was not expecting that. “I’m not really sure. I saw Miraak on a dragon.”

“Where? Where is he?” the Skaal woman asked, almost frenzied. “Can we kill him?”

She stared down at the book that was still resting on the pedestal, now closed. “Somehow, reading this book took me to where he was.”

“This is a dangerous thing, then. We should return to my village, and show this to my father. Perhaps Storn can make sense of what is going on. Come, there looks to be a way out through here.”

Frea led the way through a tunnel that wound, very long, and ended with a door. She pushed through it, and there was a pull chain next to a rock wall. Elsebet pulled it, and the rock wall moved, until they were greeted with fresh air and a sun that was lowering over the horizon.

The air was cold and bitter as Frea started down the small mountainside. Not for long, though, as she stopped and pointed at a green light that pointed into the sky.

“You see that green light? That comes from the Wind Stone, where my people work against their will.”

They continued on the mountain path, until a village appeared in the distance, surrounded by what looked like a massive ward.

“The village is just ahead. Storn has used his magic to raise a barrier around it, protecting the few of us left. That the barrier is still there is a good sign.”

They entered the village, passing through the barrier with ease. Frea led the way into the heart of the village, where three people were kneeling in a circle, using their magic to keep the barrier around Skaal Village up.

“Father!” the Skaal woman called out, making the old man in the circle look up at her. “I have returned! There is yet hope!”

“Frea!” Storn called. “What news do you bring? Is there a way to free our people?”

She shook her head sadly. “No, but I bring someone who has seen things… She has confirmed that Miraak is indeed behind the suffering of our people.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I feared that it would be so.”

“But how is that possible? After all this time…”

“I fear there is too much that we do not yet know.”

Frea turned to Elsebet. “Please, tell Storn what has happened.”

Elsebet nodded, and stepped towards the Shaman.

“So, you have seen things, yes?” he asked. “My magic grows weak, and so does the barrier around our village. Time is short. Tell me what you know.”

“I’ve seen Miraak,” she said.

“Really? How?”

“I read a book in Miraak’s temple, and went somewhere. Miraak was there.”

The old man nodded. “The legends speak of that place. Terrible battles fought at the temple. The dragons burning it to the ground in rage. They speak also of something worse than dragons buried within. Difficult to imagine, but if it’s true… It means what I feared has come to pass. Miraak was never truly gone, and now has returned. If you could go to this place and see him… Are you like Miraak? Are you Dragonborn?”

Elsebet was surprised by the question. No one had picked it up by just looking at her—except Miraak, but he was also Dragonborn. He probably knew her name as she did his.

She nodded. “Yes. I am Dragonborn.”

Frea stared at her in shock.

“Then perhaps you are connected with him. The old tales say that he, too, was Dragonborn.”

“What does it mean if we’re both Dragonborn?” Elsebet asked him.

She’d never met another Dragonborn before. Maybe she should have guessed it, from the way he spoke, and how powerful his Shout was. But, she was just electrocuted when that happened, so she couldn’t really blame herself.

“I am unsure,” Storn said. “It may mean that you could save us, or it may mean that you could bring about our destruction. But our time here is running out. The few of us free of control cannot protect ourselves for much longer. You must go to Saering’s Watch. Learn there the Word that Miraak learned long ago, and use that knowledge on the Wind Stone. You may be able to break the hold on our people there, and free them of control.”

Elsebet nodded. “Where is Saering’s Watch?” she asked.

“Northeast. Follow along the coastline, there is a path that will take you there.”

She nodded, and then remembered that she needed to get that recipe for Glover.

“Do you know where Castle Karstaag Ruins are?”

Storn furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“A friend in Raven Rock got stolen from, and the thief went to trade with the rieklings there,” she said. “He asked me to get the item back.”

“Continue on the path up to Saering’s Watch after getting the Word. Go to the caverns underneath the ruins, that’s where the rieklings are.”

“Thank you.” She turned to Marcurio. “Let’s go.”


	6. The Rieklings of Thirsk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.
> 
> AND I FORGOT TO TELL YOU LAST CHAPTER BUT SOMEONE DREW ELSEBET!!!!!!! MY BABY IS ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!! HERE'S THE LINK:
> 
> https://mrachniy.tumblr.com/post/179317836043/commission-for-return-of-skyrim-commission-info

It was a short trek to Saering’s Watch, and Elsebet was appreciating how small an island Solstheim actually was. The sun was setting by the time they approached the old Nordic mass, and almost as soon as they got to it a dragon launched itself off the top of the Word Wall at the top of the ruin.

Elsebet sighed, but she needed the soul. She only had one left.

The name _Voljunnok_ entered her mind as the dragon circled above her and Marcurio. The wizard launched sparks at the beast, and Elsebet unsheathed her dual swords, readying her Shout.

“ _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_ ”

The blue energy left her and hit the dragon dead-on, encircling it and forcing it onto the ground. It landed heavily, making the ground shake, but Elsebet stayed on her feet and charged at the dragon, all-the-while Marcurio zapped it with sparks.

When she got to the dragon’s head, she noticed that it was already bleeding, its green scales caked with dried blood. Obviously, it had been in a fight recently. How recently, she didn’t know. But the dragon obviously won.

She swiped at the dragon’s snout with her swords and jumped out of the way of its biting jaw. It couldn’t breath fire or ice because of her Shout, and she was glad of that.

Marcurio set a large ball of lightning at the dragon’s head, and it buckled, dead.

“That was easy,” Elsebet said, sheathing her swords and watching the dragon’s skin disintegrate.

“ _Do you ever wonder if it hurts?_ ” a very familiar voice said, and Elsebet’s eyes widened as she turned around, seeing the ghostly silhouette of Miraak standing there, looking right at her. “ _To have one’s soul ripped out like that?_ ”

Voljunnok’s soul rushed towards them, and into Miraak. He absorbed every single bit of it, leaving none for Elsebet.

And then he disappeared.

“What was that?” she heard Marcurio ask as he approached her. “Did you absorb the dragon’s soul?”

She stood there for a minute in silence, looking at the spot Miraak had been standing in.

“No.”

“What do you mean, “No”?” he asked. “I thought you were Dragonborn.”

She turned to him. “I _am_ Dragonborn. Miraak stole my soul. He took it.”

She marched up the stairs leading to the top of the ruin, stepping over the corpses of draugr. 

“What?” Marcurio asked. “Is that even possible?”

“Apparently.”

She got to the top of the ruin, ignoring the loud chanting in her head, and angrily placed her hand onto the glowing Word. The light surrounded her, sinking into her skin, and the soul of Ziivenzaan absorbed it, turning into _Gol_.

And she had no souls left. She felt empty.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s get that recipe.”

They followed the path up and, just as Storn had said, found the Castle Karstaag Ruins, though it looked more like a glacier than anything. Below it, in a ravine of sorts, was a cave that was probably the caverns.

She climbed down into the ravine and entered the cave. It wasn’t far in that she saw a dead body laying on a flat piece of ice, mostly undisturbed. Hearing chatter in a language she didn’t know deeper in the cave, she motioned for Marcurio to stay where he was and entered the water, swimming as carefully as she could to the body.

The water was ice-cold, though she should have expected it, as there was ice inside it. She reached the body, searching through its pockets until she found the recipe, and swam back to where Marcurio was waiting for her, making sure to keep the recipe out of the water.

She handed it to Marcurio. “Hold on to that.”

He looked at her with indignation. “I am not a pack mule.”

“I am wet, Marcurio,” she told him. “If I put it in my pack it is going to get destroyed.”

He muttered under his breath, low enough that Elsebet couldn’t hear what he was saying. 

They headed back to Skaal Village, Elsebet feeling as cold as ice, stopping by the Wind Stone to see if her Shout was worth it.

The work on the Wind Stone was much like the work being done on the Earth Stone, with the Skaal villagers doing the work instead of the denizens of Raven Rock, but that was understandable. They were on the opposite side of the island to the mining town.

She walked up to it and didn’t want to touch it, as the last time she had she had been put under the control of Miraak, though being the Dragonborn, she could break it while everyone else couldn’t.

Instead, she summoned her new Thu’um inside her and Shouted, yellow energy darting forward and surrounding the Wind Stone.

The ground underneath her feet shuddered as the people that were working on the Stone started getting their will back, and a huge beast grew out of the water that surrounded the Stone. It opened its maw as people screamed, tentacles bursting out from behind its teeth as it roared towards the sky.

“What the _fuck_ is _that?_ ” Marcurio asked, disgust and surprise coating his face.

“Doesn’t matter,” Elsebet said, unsheathing her swords. “We just need to kill it.”

The Skaal people charged at the beast with their swords, hacking and slashing at it. Elsebet and Marcurio stayed back, ready to charge in, but the beast was soon dead.

The two of them went back to Skaal Village, following the crowd of Skaal people, all of them happy to be free of control.

Storn was happy to see them. A man that looked similar to him hugged him and Frea. Probably his son, if he had one.

“What happened when I Shouted at the Wind Stone?” Elsebet asked the Shaman once they were all safe and warm within the hall, eating broth and soup.

“The power of the Stone had been corrupted,” Storn told her. “It was the source of the influence that had taken control of the Skaal. Your Shout broke whatever evil will controlled the Stone, and restored its true nature as a conduit of the All-Maker’s gift. Freeing the other Stones will diminish whatever dark influence is spreading across Solstheim.”

“Other Stones?” Marcurio asked. “There are other Stones?”

Elsebet stared at him. “We saw the Earth Stone in Raven Rock.”

“I don’t remember much of Raven Rock, okay?” he told her.

Storn chuckled at their antics. “There are six sacred Stones—Wind, Water, Earth, Beast, Sun, and Tree. Through them the Oneness of the land is maintained. Frea saw that the Tree Stone now stands imprisoned in Miraak’s new temple. I doubt you can free it until his power is broken. But you may be able to cleanse the other Stones. Even if this does not stop Miraak, it surely will delay his return.”

“So it’s true?” the man that looked like Storn asked. “Miraak has returned?”

“Unfortunately,” Storn told him, and gestured to Elsebet. “But our friend here is Dragonborn also, and has promised to stop him.”

The man looked at her. “You have?”

She nodded. “Aye. But first, I’m going to cleanse the other Stones.”

“Woah. I’d never be able to stand up against Miraak, if I were you,” he said. “I’m Paces, Storn’s son and Frea’s brother. I’d be honoured to join you in cleansing the Stones.”

“Thanks for the offer,” she told him, “but I prefer adventuring with people I’ve known for a while, and I don’t want to endanger anyone.”

“I know where all the Stones are,” Paces told her, trying to convince her to let him join her. “I travel to the Stones every year on my name day.”

Marcurio leant towards Elsebet and muttered, “We kind of do need a guide.”

She thought about it, and nodded. She only knew where one of the other Stones were, and she doubted that she could find the others on directions alone.

“Okay, then. You can join us—but only for the Stones.”

The Skaal beamed. “Thank you! We can set off in the morning for the Beast Stone in the morning. It’s just down the mountain from the Tree Stone.”

“Be careful of the rieklings that have taken over Thirsk Mead Hall,” a Skaal woman said.

Paces nodded at her. “Don’t worry, I plan on it.”

* * *

The next morning, the three of them set off for the Beast Stone, though as they approached the Mead Hall that had been taken over by rieklings, they found that the short blue goblin creature things had been waiting for someone to come and help them.

How did they find this out?

One of them spoke to Elsebet.

They approached the Hall with weapons drawn, ready to attack. But one of the chubby beasts ran up to Elsebet, who was sort-of leading the trio, pointed at her, and said, “You. Fol. Low. Me.”

She blinked down at the riekling, who only reached halfway up her thigh. “Who taught you to talk?” She had been told the night before by one of the Skaal women, Deor Woodcutter, that they couldn’t even speak in the Common Tongue. Yet here one was, speaking in the Common Tongue.

“You. Fol. Low. Me?”

The riekling started hopping away towards the Mead Hall. It pushed the door open and hopped on inside.

Elsebet, Marcurio, and Paces glanced at each other before Elsebet shrugged and followed the riekling. Marcurio let out an exasperated sigh, but followed.

“Is she always like this?” Paces asked the wizard.

“Yup,” he said.

She flipped him the bird over her shoulder as she entered the hall.

The riekling led the three of them to the other side of the hall, through piles of junk that they had picked up somewhere, to a throne with spears coming off the back of it, a riekling longing on it with an elaborate headdress that denoted him as the chief.

The riekling chief pointed at Elsebet, speaking in a raspy voice that really wasn’t meant to speak her language. “You strong. Help tribe-kin.”

“Who are you?” she asked him.

“You. You strong. Help tribe-kin.”

“How did you learn to talk?” Paces asked the chief with wonder, obviously having never seen an intelligent riekling before.

“Chief smart. Most Riekling dumb but chief smart. We family. We strong, you stronger.”

Elsebet narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying you want our help?”

He nodded once. “Bilgemuck run. Prize beast, run. Fool tribe-kin, chase away. Bilgemuck fear. You bring, he follow. Yes?”

She nodded slowly. “Bilgemuck is an animal of some kind? And you want it back?”

“Bilgemuck prize beast. You find, he follow. Bilgemuck love meat. Give meat, he follow. You go.”

She nodded, and led Marcurio and Paces out of the Hall.

“Okay, first thing’s first—does anyone have any meat?” she asked her two companions.

“I do,” Paces said, digging through his pack. He pulled out a piece of linen and unwrapped it, revealing a piece of raw horker.

“And you were just carrying that around?” Marcurio asked him.

“Yeah. Don’t you?”

“No. No I do not.”

“Second, where is the bilgemuck?” Elsebet asked, taking the rewrapped meat from the Skaal man.

“I don’t even know what a bilgemuck is,” Marcurio said.

“Maybe we could ask one of the rieklings,” Paces offered. “They would know where their bilgemuck ran off to.”

Elsebet nodded. “Good idea.” She turned to one of the nearby rieklings. “Do you know where the bilgemuck is?”

The riekling pointed towards Skaal Village, over a small lake that was still frozen from the winter, despite it being Rain’s Hand and the middle of spring. But it was freezing, the top half of Solstheim being covered in snow.

She led the way to the side of the lake, telling her two companions to wait for her there before taking a step onto the ice. It stayed solid, and she took another step onto the ice.

She went like that the entire way across, feeling the ice first before stepping onto it. Halfway over the lake, she saw a wild boar digging into the snow, looking for food, and she realised that was what the rieklings were referring to as a bilgemuck. A boar.

She stepped off the ice on the other side of the lake and held the meat Paces gave her out in front of her. The boar stopped digging, lifting his head and sniffing the air before turning towards her. She threw the meat down into the snow in front of her, and the boar charged for it, eating it up in a couple seconds.

It looked up at her expectingly, waiting for more food, and she got an idea of how to lure it back to the Hall.

“I have more meat,” she told it, “but you have to follow me.”

She took a step back, and the boar took a step forward. She went to the right a bit, and saw that the boar was following her, wanting more food.

She darted around the lake with the boar on her tail, not wanting to take a chance over the ice again, and she got the boar to the Hall, where several rieklings jumped on it and led it into a pen, throwing it meat so it wouldn’t attack them.

“The bilgemuck was a boar?” Marcurio asked.

“Yup,” Elsebet said, leading the way back into the Mead Hall.

“Bilgemuck follow you,” the riekling chief said. “Bilgemuck know strength. Tribe-kin stronger. You stay, help more.”

“You want us to do something else?” Elsebet asked him.

“Tribe-kin missing redgrass. Need for god speak dance. You bring redgrass, we dance.”

He did a little dance while still sitting on the throne.

“What is this “redgrass”?” Marcurio asked him.

The riekling chief picked up a handful of red leaves from a bowl next to the throne and shoved it in Elsebet’s face. “Here, like this. Go, bring two hands of redgrass. Be friend of tribe-kin.”

She nodded, and they left the hall.

She gave the redgrass to Paces. “Do you know what this is?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s scathecraw. It grows on the southern half of the island. It’s extremely common here.”

“Well, we can find it while we’re cleansing the Stones,” Elsebet said.

He nodded. “The closest one is the Beast Stone, and just behind the Hall. Come on, I’ll lead the way.”

The Beast Stone really was just behind the Thirsk Mead Hall, up a hill that lead to Miraak’s Temple, and the Tree Stone. 

“Stand back,” she told Paces and Marcurio, and Shouted at the Stone.

“ _GOL!_ ”

The energy surrounded the Stone, and the rieklings that were working on it ran back down to the Mead Hall, the arches they were building crumbling to the floor. And, just like last time, growing from the water was a beast twice the height of Elsebet, spewing tentacles from its open maw.

Marcurio set his hands alight with flames, and sent fireball after fireball at the creature as Elsebet stayed back, too, firing arrows at it.

Roaring loudly into the sky, it charged at her, and she had just enough time to jump out of the way, before she nocked an arrow and shot it at where the creature’s heart should be. It thudded into the thick, oily armour it wore, and another fireball slammed against its head, toppling it to the floor. 

Elsebet shouldered her bow and unsheathed Chillrend, launching herself at the fallen beast. She jumped onto its back as it stood up, hand sinking into its skin like it was made of slime, and plunged the ice-cold blade into the back of its neck.

Underneath her feet, the creature buckled, and fell to the floor again. Elsebet had no choice but to go down with it, as one of her hands and both her feet were stuck in the beast’s slimy skin.

“Uh…” she said, “a little help?”

Marcurio jogged over to her and helped her unstick herself from the creature’s skin. When she was finally free, she scowled at the slime sticking to her hands, peeling it off of her.

“I’m never doing that again,” she muttered to herself.

It was then that she realised Paces didn’t join in the combat.

She looked over to where he was standing, and noticed that he was as stiff as a bored, staring wide-eyed and pale at the fallen creature.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“What in oblivion is that?” he asked, his voice shaky and low.

She looked over at it. “I don’t know. Probably from oblivion, though I don’t know which realm.”

Paces shook his head. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that to appear.”

“It came out of the last one, too, so it might happen at the others, as well,” Marcurio said. He nudged the creature with his foot. “Looks like something from Apocrypha.”

“What’s Apocrypha?” Elsebet asked.

Paces closed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Apocrypha is Herma Mora’s realm. You’d call him Hermaeus Mora, the Bosmer call him the Woodland Man. He’s the Daedric Prince of Knowledge. Will do anything to get every piece of knowledge that has ever existed or will exist.”

Elsebet groaned. Now she understood why Akatosh and Julianos had told her to complete Hermaeus Mora’s task first. The entire island was under the Daedra’s control.

“You’ve heard of him?” the Skaal man asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ve met him,” she grumbled. “Let’s just get to the next Stone.”

He blinked at her in surprise for a second before nodding. “The closest Stone is the Earth Stone, just outside Raven Rock. I’ll lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but if I don't post it and try to forget about it, I will never continue on with the story. So, if you thought it was crap, that's why.
> 
> Also, new characters! I honestly really like Paces. Tell me what you think of him.


	7. I Was Not Expecting That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

An eastern wind blew through Rune’s hair as he stepped onto the Windhelm docks, a pack full of supplies on his back. His eyes scanned over the boats and ships that were docked, wondering which of them would take him to Solstheim.

“Are you lost?” a deep voice asked him, and he looked to his left to see a dark green Argonian male looking at him, a pile of cut up wood in his hands.

He shook his head. “I’m looking for a ship that would take me to Solstheim.”

The Argonian hummed, and looked at a ship on the other side of the docks. “Usually, only Gjalund Salt-Sage goes to Solstheim, but M’dahna might, for the right price.”

“M’dahna?” Rune asked. “Sounds Khajiiti.”

“That’s because she’s a Khajiit,” the Argonian said. “But she’s a great sailor. She captains _The Winter Sands_ , that boat over there,” he pointed to the third boat from the end of the docks, where there was a Dunmer sitting in the crows nest, talking to a Wood Elf that hung off the ropes, with no concern of the drop below her.

Rune nodded. “Thank you.”

“Safe tidings, friend.”

The Argonian left to deliver the chopped wood, and Rune made his way to _The Winter Sands_. He climbed onto the boat, gaining the eye of an Altmer that was drinking with a young Redguard, both of them stopping their conversation to watch him walk past.

An Orc woman stopped him, crossing her arms over her burly chest. “Can I help you?”

He nodded. “I’m looking for M’dahna.”

“That’s _Captain_ M’dahna to you, Imperial,” she said. “She’s in the captain’s quarters. I’ll take you to her.”

He thanked her, and she grunted back to him through her tusks. She turned on her heel and headed towards one of the sides of the large ship, leading into the ship.

She knocked on the door, and waited for the person inside to yell, “Enter!” before she opened the door and made her way into the room, Rune on her heels.

The room was pretty plain, for a sailor captain’s room. There was a bed pushed against one wall, a set of drawers at the end. There were several chests along the other wall, and a table with a map in the middle, windows showing what would the sea behind it, if they were on the ocean. Instead, they showed the Windhelm Stables.

And, sitting behind the desk, twirling a dagger between her fingers, was a Khajiit woman with a pirate’s hat on, lounging in her chair, smirking at the door.

“What is this, Ugotha?” the Khajiit asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed?”

“This meat wanted to see you,” the Orc, Ugotha, said. “Didn’t say why.”

“Did you ask him?”

“No. I wanted you to handle him.”

The Khajiit sighed, but put her knife down, leaning her elbows onto the desk. She addressed Rune. “I am M’dahna, Captain of _The Winter Sands_. What do you want?”

“I want to hire you to take me to Solstheim,” he said.

M’dahna laughed, what sounded a mix between a hiss and a gasp. “I do not hire out my crew, especially to strangers. Tell me, who told you to come see me?”

“I don’t know,” he told her. “An Argonian on the docks.”

She sighed, pinching the furry bridge of her nose. “Scouts-Many-Marshes, no doubt. Fine, I’ll take you to Solstheim, but it’s not going to be cheap.”

“I’m a thief, money’s not a problem.”

A smirk appeared on the Khajiit’s face. “You’re not the only thief to grace the wood of my ship. A pair of Bosmer twins, an Imperial, the Dunmer that’s always in the crow’s nest and is fond of heights. We all have stories, we all come from different places. I myself was an orphan that lived on the streets of Northpoint, in High Rock.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yes, quite. But if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have this ship, and you would have no other way to Solstheim. No one else will go near the island with what is going on there, and _The Northern Maiden_ will not be back for a week, at least. This price is going to be very high, and not just in coin.”

Rune narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I never let anyone sail just for coin,” M’dahna said. “I have everyone that steps onto this ship with the meaning to sail just for Septims to help sail. Some don’t end up hiring me, others leave as soon as I get them to their destination, and a small portion of them stay. That’s how I got my second mate, Glarndil.”

“I’m going to have to _work?_ ” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. You have to earn your keep. And if you don’t like it, you can leave and wait for Gjalund, but as I said, he won’t be back for at least a week, and it’s a four-day journey there, and I doubt he’ll leave straight away. It’ll be at least three weeks before you get to Solstheim. Are you willing to wait that long?”

The question hung in the air between them, and Rune glanced over at the Orc that had been silent their entire conversation. Ugotha raised an eyebrow, the question on her face, and Rune decided.

He turned back to the Khajiit Captain. “No, I’m not. How much is it, and what do I have to do?”

The smirk returned to the Khajiit’s face, and she leaned back in her chair.

* * *

“Welcome back,” Glover Mallory said, approaching Elsebet, Marcurio and Paces as they passed the forge he owned. “Did you get the recipe for me?”

Elsebet fished it out of Marcurio’s pack, handing it over to the blacksmith. He looked it over, and let out a laugh of glee.

“Thank you, my friend,” he said, and pulled something out of his pocket. “As promised, here’s your reward.”

He gave her a key, and she glanced at it before looking back at the Breton. “This is a key.”

“Yeah, it unlocks the door in my basement. I’m telling you, you’re going to be happy you got it.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks.” She turned to her two companions. “Can I go see what’s in his basement? Please?”

Paces and Marcurio shared a look before they said, “Sure.” Elsebet hugged both of them and rushed inside Glover’s house, going down the stairs leading to the basement, and unlocked the door. She pushed it open as Marcurio came down the stairs behind her, and her mouth fell wide open. The room was small, but it held a lot of stuff. On the other side of the room, against the back wall was a glass shield hanging on the wall, banners with the thieves guild symbol hanging on either side of it. In the back left corner was a thieves cache with the thieves guild symbol carved into it, and on a small wall between two lit braziers and underneath the shield was a lockbox with two potions and a note next to it.

To Elsebet’s right was two small benches with a display case between them, three stuffed ice wolf heads on the wall. On the closest bench was a bunch of sweetrolls and bottles of Black-Briar Reserve, as well as a pile of coin and several coinpurses underneath the bench that were brimming with gold. On the bench furthest from her were several lesser soul gems with an assortment of potions next to it, as well as Honningbrew Mead and what looked like sujamma and maize on the shelf of the bench. In the display case was a set of grey thieves guild armour, with no sleeves on the cuirass.

On her left were a couple of normal barrels with baskets on top of them.

She started looting the place, pocketing all the gold and potions, going through the thieves cache and the strongbox. She picked up the letter, glancing at it at first but doing a double take when she saw the name at the top of it.

_My dearest daughter Sapphire,_

_It’s with a heavy heart that I write this letter. For years I’ve thought about how I could tell you this, and each time I imagine it would be face-to-face. I’m ashamed for what I did, and I hope that someday you’ll learn to forgive me. Whatever you do, don’t blame Delvin for any of this. He didn’t know._

_Long after I joined the Guild, I was sent to rob a caravan that was stopping at a tiny farming village far from the border of Skyrim. When I arrived there, I was a day early and decided to sleep for the night in the barn of a pig farm. I awoke the next morning when the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes upon walked in to do her chores. She wasn’t even frightened when she saw me… in an instant I think we had both fallen in love. I ended up living with that woman in that tiny little village for a year until she was with child. And then, like a coward… I ran away. I was a thief and I didn’t want to end up a farmer. It was a terrible thing to do._

_I didn’t have the courage to return to that village for almost fifteen years. When I finally decided to visit, it was too late. It had been raided by bandits and burned to the ground. Everyone was either dead and gone. Including you… my only child._

_Years later, when you were recruited by Brynjolf I couldn’t believe my eyes. You were a spitting image of your mother and I knew it was you in an instant. Only the gods know how you survived the attack on that village and why you followed in my footsteps, but I have to assume it was meant to be. I’ve wanted to walk right up to you and embrace you, to tell you the truth, but I was still a coward. I decided to leave Riften instead of facing your anger. I said my goodbyes to Delvin and headed for Solstheim… as far from the truth as I could get._

_I’m sorry, my daughter. I’m sorry for never being there to hold you at night or to protect you from whatever hardships you endured. One day, I hope you’ll make the journey to Solstheim and visit your father._

_Glover Mallory_

Elsebet looked up from the letter in her hands and at one of the wolf heads, as the information the letter revealed swam in her head.

Glover was Sapphire’s daughter. Sapphire was Delvin’s niece, and neither of them knew it.

She couldn’t keep this information to herself, now that she knew it. She needed to get the letter to Sapphire, to Delvin, to anyone that was mentioned in the letter.

She folded the letter and, making sure she had taken everything from the room, she went back upstairs and out into the forge area.

“You’re Sapphire’s father,” she said to Glover, who was talking to Paces.

He turned and blinked at her. “What?”

She held the letter out. “You’re Sapphire’s father.”

His body went rigid. “I forgot that was in there.”

“How could you not tell her?” she asked.

“You read the letter. I was a coward.”

“That doesn’t matter!” she said. “You left her without a father to grow up with!”

“You’re taking this awfully personal,” the Breton said. “It doesn’t concern you.”

“She was abandoned by her own father,” Marcurio said, having followed Elsebet back out of the basement.

He blinked at her. “You were?”

“Yeah, and it sucks. I’m going to show her this letter the next time I’m in Riften,” she said. “I hope you know that.”

He sighed. “Fine. I’ve been trying to gather the courage to send it, and if you do it, I won’t be able to talk myself out of it. Do it.”

She blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to cave so easily. “O-okay. I will.” She turned to Paces. “Come on, we have a Stone to cleanse.”

She marched over to the Earth Stone, stuffing the letter into her pack. She’d go back to it later, there were more important things to do.

She pushed one of the guards that had been indoctrinated by Miraak out of the way and Shouted at the Stone, the energy wrapping itself around it as the floor shook and the structure crumbled. Everyone shook themselves out of their daze as the beast erupted from the pool of water that surrounded the Stone, spewing tentacles from its mouth.

“By Azura, what is _that?!_ ” one of the guards armoured in bonemold armour shouted, but got ready to fight it.

The beast was dead not long after, and Elsebet was careful not to touch it again. She had enough goo stuck to her hands, she didn’t need anymore.

She looked out at the horizon, the sun disappearing over the Sea of Ghosts.

“Let’s go to the next Stone,” she said, turning to Paces. “Where is it?”

“We should rest,” the Skaal said. “It’s been a long day.”

She shook her head. “No, I want this done as soon as possible. Where is it?”

He hesitated, but sighed. “It’s north, past Damphall Mine. Come, I’ll lead you there.”


	8. The Great Workshops of Nchardak Aren't Very Impressive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing. Also, this is the longest chapter in the series, so yay to that.

“I’ve cleansed the other four Stones,” Elsebet told Storn, where he kneeled and used his magic to help create the barrier that surrounded Skaal Village.

“I can feel it,” he said. “The balance of the living land has nearly been restored. But while the Tree Stone remains under Miraak’s influence, the natural order remains out of balance. And all can be undone if Miraak exerts his will again. You must continue on this path, and gather the knowledge you need to defeat him.”

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“I doubt you’ve stopped Miraak, what with the Tree Stone still under his control,” the shaman said, “but it may have slowed his progress, especially with the other Stones out of his control.”

“That’s not enough,” she told him. “I need to stop him. Now.”

He sighed. “I cannot help you with that. None here can. You will need the knowledge Miraak himself learned. You will need to learn more about this Black Book.”

Elsebet pulled the Black Book out of her pack and held it out to Storn, who stopped his magic and stood up, looking at the book. “What can you tell me about it, then?”

Storn took it from her hands. “Miraak had this? This does not look like something of the Dragon cult. It is a dark thing, unnatural. I would have nothing to do with it.” He handed it back. “But the Dark Elf Wizard, Neloth… He came to us some time ago, asking about Black Books. I believe he knows a great deal about them. Perhaps too much. Seek him out to the south. Be cautious, Dragonborn. There is something else at work here.”

_South_ , Elsebet thought, putting the book back in her pack. _How far south?_

She started heading south, despite the fact that she’d been on her feet for almost twenty-four hours, but she felt Marcurio’s hand on her arm, stopping her from moving.

She glared back at him, pulling her arm out of her grip. “What do you want?”

“You need sleep. All that Shouting has left you extremely tired.”

“I’m fine. If you’re tired, you can stay here. I’m going.”

She went to move again, but she was stopped again, this time by the Imperial wizard stepping in front of her path. “I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re not in charge of me,” she said. “Move.”

“You need to sleep, and you’re not leaving until you get some.”

“Get out of my way.”

“No.”

Paces took a step towards them. “There’s no need to fight. And he’s right, Elsebet. You’ve been going all day. Just sleep. I promise I’ll wake you up in an hour.”

Elsebet stared at him for a second, before grumbling, “Fine. But if you don’t, you’re dead.”

She turned on her heel and stormed towards the house she had slept in the night before.

Marcurio glanced at Paces. “You’re not going to wake her up, are you?”

He shook his head as he saw the door to his house close shut angrily. “Nope.”

* * *

When Elsebet woke up, it was not an hour after she fell asleep. Instead, the sun was low on the horizon, and that was when she realised she had been asleep all day.

But she wasn’t as angry as she thought she’d be. She was well-rested, and felt like she could properly seize the day.

So while Paces had broken his promise, she was glad, and she, Paces, and Marcurio headed south, passed Thirsk Mead Hall and the Sun Stone, and towards a massive mushroom.

Elsebet didn’t realise how far they had had to go down to the Sun Stone Paces had forgotten earlier that day, where they had given the scathecraw to the riekling chief at Thirsk, and they had asked them to kill the original owners of the Hall. Elsebet had then become the chief, because the old chief challenged her to a duel she couldn’t get out of, and had killed him.

That would explain the riekling that had followed her around since then, and the two that appeared out of nowhere when she was in battle.

Marcurio told Elsebet that the giant mushrooms they were approaching was called Tel Mithryn, and that he had always wanted to see it, as it was an ancient type of Dunmeri architecture that some Telvanni mages still used, despite how long it took to grow. But there they were, passing a Dunmer woman that argued with a young robe-clad Dunmer man, and got directions from another Dunmer woman that lead them to the largest of the three giant mushrooms.

When they entered the mushroom, they found no way to the top of it. They were stuck in the stalk, with no way up, until Elsebet took a step forward and she was lifted up, up, to a wooden platform built over the centre of the hole the stalk made. Her feet landed softly, and her plait thudded onto her back.

She took a step forward, and Marcurio set down behind her.

She looked around the mushroom in amazement as she realised that the entirety of it had been hollowed out to allow the Dunmer Wizard, Neloth, to live in. And, at an enchanting table, was a familiar Dunmer Wizard.

She approached him, and he looked up.

“You again?” he asked, a distasteful look on his face. “Didn’t I see you in Raven Rock?”

She pushed aside the question and said, “I hear you know where to find Black Books.”

He stood up straight. “You refer to the tomes of esoteric knowledge that old Hermaeus Mora has scattered throughout the world? Is this somehow connected to your search for Miraak?”

She groaned. “I’ve dealt with Hermaeus Mora before. I’ve read the Oghma Infinium.”

She ignored the looks of bewilderment Paces and Marcurio were giving her and kept her eyes on Neloth.

He blinked at her in surprise. “Have you? The actual Oghma Infinium?”

She nodded.

“That’s… I’ve searched for it myself for many years without success… Well, then, you should know better than anyone that Hermaeus Mora is not to be trifled with. But he is subtler than most of the other Daedric Princes, as you would expect of the prince of knowledge and fate. You seem to have escaped the fate of many who find themselves ensnared forever by the lure of his secrets. Or… perhaps not.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. It really hadn’t been that long since she had looked at the book’s pages.

“I have to know what Miraak knows if I’m going to stop him,” she told him.

He raised an eyebrow back. “Miraak? The one the townsfolk are always chanting about?”

“Yes. You may have noticed he’s trying to return to Solstheim.”

The old wizard huffed. “Well, I knew something connected with Hermaeus Mora was spreading its influence across the island. I wasn’t sure that it was in fact the same deity as this legendary namesake of the central temple. Although the villagers seem quite convinced.”

“Do you know where to find another Black Book?”

He nodded. “Oh, yes. They’re not hard to locate once you know how to look for them. I have one here that I have been using to locate more.”

She blinked at him. “You have a Black Book?”

“Yes. I haven’t been idle while this fascinating madness engulfed Solstheim. But my book isn’t what you’re looking for. I’m quite sure it is unconnected with this Miraak. But I do know where to find a Black Book that can help you.”

“Why won’t the book you have here help me?”

He waved away the question with a hand. “Oh, it clearly is not associated with the same power that has overtaken the island. And I’m not just talking about Hermaeus Mora. These Black Books are all his, of course. No, what you’re looking for is a specific book. Presumably because Miraak’s power derives from it.”

“So you know where to find it?”

“Yes I do,” he said. “I haven’t been able to get it, though. But maybe together we can unlock the secrets the Dwemer left behind.”

“The Dwemer?” Marcurio asked, injecting himself into the conversation. “What do they have to do with this?”

Neloth looked directly at him. “Forbidden knowledge was always a specialty of the dwarves, eh? You don’t think would just leave it alone, do you?”   
Marcurio looked uncomfortable with the question, but didn’t get a chance to answer before Neloth turned back to Elsebet and continued talking to her.

“It seems the ancient Dwemer discovered this book and took it to study. I have found their ‘reading room’ in the ruins of Nchardak. The book is there, but it’s sealed in a protective case which I wasn’t able to open. But perhaps the two—”

Marcurio cleared his throat.

“—of us together will be able to get the book,” Neloth continued like he wasn’t interrupted. “To Nchardak, then. Follow me.”

He led the way out of the giant mushroom, and started towards the Dwemer city Elsebet had spotted on their trek to Tel Mithryn when Paces stopped Elsebet.

“I should head back to the village,” he said. “I was only here to escort you around the island, but now that you’ve got a guide I’m not needed. I’ll see you around.”

And he left, walking passed Neloth and taking the direct route to Skaal village instead of the road to Nchardak, leaving just Neloth, Elsebet, and Marcurio to head into the Dwemer city.

Neloth huffed before he continued leading them to Nchardak.

As they neared the bridge heading to the sunken city, Neloth stopped and pointed at the biggest tower at the centre of all the fallen towers.

“The Dwemer certainly knew how to build for the ages,” he told them. “These towers have outlasted their creators by millennia. The book is housed inside that dome. I’ll need to unlock the door for us. Let’s get on with it.”

They started to cross the bridge when an arrow whipped passed Elsebet’s face, and Neloth swore.

“Damn reavers! I had to clear them out last time, too.”

The three of them went into attack mode. Neloth and Marcurio readied spells as they ran closer to where the reavers were, and Elsebet pulled her bow off her back and started firing arrows.

The reavers were a lot more lithe and moved faster than the bandits in Skyrim, but they weren’t weighed down in iron and steel like most bandits were. A few of the reavers also wielding magic, but they were nothing compared to the master wizard that attacked them.

After a couple minutes, all the reavers were dead, several of their bodies falling into the ocean.

They approached the dome, and saw that there was a gate over the front of the door leading inside, with a pillar to its left.

“The Dwemer of Nchardak appear to have been fond these control pedestals,” Neloth said, putting his hand into his robe and pulling out a Dwemer cube, the inside glowing red. “Luckily I found a cube to operate it inside on my last visit. I sealed the door when I left to keep out ignorant meddlers. Let me unlock it. The book is just inside.”

He approached the pillar—pedestal, from what he said—and placed the cube on the top, opening claws that were used to open it, turned it, and pulled it out. The gates over the door that blocked their progress opened up, and the three of them entered the dome.

It was large, with a high ceiling. In the middle of the room in the floor was a ring of bronze, inside a smaller circle that looked like glass, and when Elsebet neared it, she realised it was what held the Black Book, underneath the floor.

“You can see the book right there,” Neloth said as Elsebet knelt down next to it, running her fingers over the Dwemer words that were carved into the bronze that surrounded the glass chamber. “So tantalisingly close… But trust me, no magic will open that. I’d have had the book already if I could. No, we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

“It’s always the hard way,” Elsebet muttered, standing up. “What do we need to do?”

“If we can restore the steam supply to this room, I’m certain I can open it. As you’ll see, that’s easier said than done. This way to the boilers.”

He walked over to where another pedestal stood in front of another gate, and opened it. The gate slid open, and the doors behind it opened, revealing an elevator with a lever in its centre.

Elsebet sighed, but walked over to the lever. Making sure that Neloth and Marcurio were on the elevator, she pulled the lever, and the platform they stood on jerked, before slowly lowering them down, further into the sunken, abandoned city.

The city was deep, but she had expected no less. All Dwemer cities were deep, and expansive. She wondered just how big they actually were, as most of the corridors she passed in the previous ruins she’d been in had caved in, leaving only one way forward. She was lucky enough that they were always the way out, too.

The elevator came to a halt, revealing a tilted, rubble-littered hall. It went down and turned, into a massive chamber.

Neloth spoke as they walked.

“The last time I was here, I only explored a small part of the ruins. I was here alone then, and I find an assistant is absolutely essential for this kind of dirty, dangerous work. Nchardak, The ‘City of a Hundred Towers’. In its day it was the largest of the great Dwemer Archives and perhaps the most advanced. In the old stories, when the Nords came to conquer it, it’s said the Dwemer submerged the entire city beneath the sea until the invaders gave up. I have my doubts. But the city was a marvel of Dwemer engineering. Now… reduced to this.”

They stopped in front of two pedestals that sat on a balcony, overlooking what would have been most of the city, if everything below the balcony wasn’t submerged in water.

“As you can see, most of the lower levels of the city are flooded. But it isn’t hopeless—the old Dwemer pumps still work. Watch.”

He placed the cube onto the left pedestal, and the city shook, the pumps around them turning on, and the water level dropped dramatically, rushing through the pipes that surrounded them, until it revealed a second balcony, now dripping with water, with four other pedestals on it, one in each of the corners.

“But the pumps only operate when a cube is in the pedestal. And unfortunately, I have only one cube. These four boilers provide steam to the room upstairs. They’re shut down, but they still respond to the control cubes. So, if we can find four more cubes, we can turn these boilers back on and restore steam power to the room upstairs. Then I should be able to open the book’s protective case. Bring that cube. We’ll need it.”

He turned on his heel and walked to a bench with Dwemer gears and cogs on it, and studied it like he knew what it showed. 

Elsebet took the cube out of the pedestal, and the city shook again as it filled with stale water. Marcurio grumbled at the smell of the water.

“Yes… here we are,” Neloth said, staring at the thing in front of him. “This device shows the location of four more cubes in this section of the city. It looks like most of the cubes were moved to the lower levels, perhaps to try and control the flooding before the city was abandoned. Interesting. That suggests that the city must have originally sunk during the first cataclysm of Red Mountain. Or that the Dwemer’s servitors continued to try to preserve the city after their creators’ disappearance.”

He pushed himself off the bench her had been studying and towards a door to the side, the door being covered by a gate with a pedestal next to it.

“Three of the cubes are through here. This seems like a sensible place to start. You should be able to unseal this door with the control cube I gave you.”

Elsebet went to the pedestal and placed in the cube, turning it like she had seen Neloth do, and pulled the cube out of the claws on top. The gates slid open, and they pushed open the doors.

They opened up into a small room, a hall sloping down on the left, with a pedestal at the top. Sitting on top of the pedestal was a cube that glowed blue, and Elsebet went to it and pulled it off, the colour fading from the cube, and placed it in her pack.

At the bottom of the slope, a dwarven spider came out of its sleeping tube, and started scuttling up the slope to them.

It was dead with one blast of Neloth’s lightning.

The Dark Elf let out a huff and lowered his hands. “I hope the rest of the cubes are this easy to find. Although knowing the Dwemer, I rather doubt it.”

He led the way down the slope and around a corner, into a large chamber with a bridge in the middle, and a staircase on either side of the long room coming out of the water. Some pumps must have been working, as there was water that poured out of broken pipes and into the water, but the water level stayed the same. 

“These must be the ‘Great Workshops of Nchardak’,” Neloth said, looking at the room with wonder. “Impressive even in ruins. In the city’s days of glory, it was reputed to be able to assemble a complete automaton in a single day. Much of the Dwemer army at the Battle of the Red Mountain must have come from here. It looks like we’ll need to lower the water levels to make any more progress.”

Elsebet spotted a pedestal on the other side of the bridge, and she placed one of the cubes on it. The room shuddered as its pumps turned on, and the water level lowered until there was only a thin layer on the floor.

She made her way down to the lower level and placed the second cube in a red pedestal, twisting it and taking it out. In front of her, stone steps slid to their right place.

“I’ll check through here,” she heard Marcurio call out, and she turned to see him making his way up the stairs on the other side of the room. She nodded, and went up the steps in front of her.

At the top was a door, and she pushed it open, revealing a small room that went off in two directions. She went to the left first, going around the corner and pushing open another door. Inside was a pedestal with a cube on top of it. Elsebet grinned as she pulled it off the top of the pedestal, and the room shook as water refilled it.

She placed the cube in her pack and went to the other side of the room, wondering if there was another cube there, but all she found was a chest. She picked it open and took what was inside, and went back down to the main room, her boots splashing in the water.

From atop the bridge that ran over the centre of the room, Neloth smirked down at her. “Unfortunately, each cube we revive shuts down the corresponding pumps, raising the water level. We’ll have to be careful.”

She scowled at him and walked into the water, the stale smell filling her nostrils. She gagged, but swam to where Marcurio had disappeared into, seeing what he had found.

Only to find him staring at a collapsed bridge to the other side.

“We need to raise the water level,” he told her. “I’ll wait here.”

She nodded, and backtracked to the dust cube she had placed, on top of the bridge. By that point, Neloth had joined Marcurio in the hall, and the city rumbled as she took the cube from the pedestal.

She swam back to the hall, where Marcurio and Neloth were already drying themselves with spells, and helped her out of the water.

Above them, on a platform, came the rumblings of an unfurling animunculi, and Elsebet swore, thinking it to be a dwarven sphere.

But the thick, heavy bolt that buried itself in the wall next to Marcurio’s head said differently.

He let out a shriek, fire sprouting in his hands as he realised just how close to death he had come. Elsebet pulled her bow off her back, knocking an arrow and pointing it up at the platform, narrowing her eyes as she tried to find the animunculi.

She saw it at the edge of the platform, loading another thick bolt, its spindly legs moving to give it the perfect angle. It had a thick hide, and she couldn’t see any exposed wiring from where she stood.

Lowering her bow and slackening the string, she moved around the platform to see if there were any stairs she could go up to find the animunculi.

But when she turned the corner, she saw a dwarven centurion hiss with steam, and step off what she guessed was its charging station—a term she had read in a book about the Dwemer, but didn’t exactly know the meaning of.

She let out a shout, alerting Neloth and Marcurio of the new danger. They shouted back in understanding, though there really weren’t any words.

She decided to let them deal with the animunculi on the top with their magic, and she would deal with the centurion.

She dropped her bow and unsheathed her swords as the centurion turned to her, blowing steam at her face. She ran out of the way, and the centurion followed her, albeit slowly, and she used that to her advantage.

When the steam stopped, she used her chance and ran at its legs, running between them, and severing several wires with Chillrend, covering them with ice as she did. The centurion stumbled, and she pushed herself off the wall and jumped onto its back, letting go of the Nightingale Blade as she did. It clattered onto the floor as she thrust Chillrend into the gap between its head and its back, cutting through important wires that were detrimental to it working—at least, she hoped so.

Her hopes were realised when the animunculi went limp below her, and started falling to the ground.

She jumped off its back and rolled onto the floor next to where she had dropped the Nightingale Blade, just as it hit the floor with a loud _boom_. She picked up her sword and sheathed both of them, then went to where she had dropped her bow and secured it to her pack, then ran around the side of the platform to look for stairs leading to the top of the platform.

She found them, and climbed them. At the top, the armoured animunculi let off another bolt, but with one more burst of sparks, it crumbled, its metal bits and pieces going everywhere.

She went to the edge of the platform and saw Marcurio and Neloth taking deep breaths, their magicka running low. She held up a thumbs up, grinning, and Marcurio reciprocated it. Neloth only wiped away the dust on his robes and went to join her.

The room shook and started filling with water, and a couple seconds later, Neloth and Marcurio emerged at the top of the stairs, the former having a control cube in his hand.He handed it to her as the water lapped over their feet, and ended up at their armpits.

She took it, thanking him, and led the way to dry land.

Back at where the steam pumps were in what Neloth called the Great Hall, she placed the first of the cubes onto one of the two pedestals, and the entire hall shook as the pumps started working, moving tonnes of water out of the hall and to somewhere else, probably out into the Sea of Ghosts.

The water level stopped just below the lower platform, but Neloth had told her that the last cube was in the lower part of the part of the city they were in, so she needed to make it go lower. She placed a second cube onto the second pedestal, and the room shook again as the water lowered even more, revealing a doorway on the far right side of the hall, with a walkway leading to it.

They started down the walkway, Elsebet in the lead, and took out a cube from her pack to open the gate that was in front of the door, but she dropped it when a thick bolt flew passed her, and she instinctively unsheathed Chillrend, turning to what shot it.

It was another one of the armoured animunculi, loading another bolt. She scowled at it, and launched herself at it, but ducked to the side when it released another bolt. She raised her sword and hacked at the thick metal armour, looking for a way into the wiring, but it didn’t seem to have any. She moved around it, hacking at the armour, and it followed, turning in a circle where it stood.

But Neloth yelled at her to get out of the way, and she did, backtracking until she stood next to the two wizards in her company, and the old Dark Elf threw lightning bolts at it, the sparks bouncing off its hide.

Marcurio helped with the assault, covering it with flames, and Elsebet peppered it with arrows, though it didn’t do much.

But, with their combined efforts, the animunculi fell onto the floor, the machine version of dead.

“I hate those things,” Elsebet muttered.

To be fair, she hated all animunculi.

Marcurio let out a chuckle, until there was a loud _thunk_ , and he let out a choked grunt. Elsebet looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, wondering what he was doing, until she actually saw him, and she let out a shriek.

Protruding from Marcurio’s chest was the tip of a thick bolt, covered in blood, like one that came from the armoured animunculi. Looking behind her with eyes full of fury, pain, and disbelief, she saw another one of the armoured animunculi scuttle out of the shadows, already loading another bolt.

Next to her, Marcurio collapsed onto the floor, and let out his final breath.

Rage filled Elsebet’s veins as what happened settled over her, and she turned fully to the animunculi that shot her friend. She saw red, and her veins were set on fire, almost literally.

Her thu’um forced itself up her throat, though it didn’t really need to. It was always activated by extreme emotions, and this situation was no different.

She placed her right foot behind her, to keep her standing when she Shouted, and summoned all the power she could, and said three Words.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

With a force unrelenting, the Words left her body., from every pore on her skin, her Voice echoing loudly throughout the Great Hall. It slammed into the animunculi, propelling it backwards, crashing and falling apart as it hit the wall, hard.

Tears started running down her cheeks as she turned back to where Marcurio fell, blood pooling underneath his body, and she collapsed next to him, her bow falling out of her grip. With a small bit of hope, she held her fingers against the pressure point in his neck, and she felt his failing heartbeat, and he let out a ragged breath.

She pushed his hair out of his face as her tears fell off her face, and she saw him looking up at her with half-closed eyes. He raised an arm, pain lacing across his features, and touched her cheek.

“Whatever you do,” he told her in a croaking voice, blood leaking out of the side of his mouth, “don’t keep yourself back. You’ve done that for long enough, since your friend’s death. Don’t let my death weigh on your shoulders, too.”

His hand slipped off her cheek, and he let out one last breath, his eyes still half-open.

Against her fingers, his heart fluttered to a stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... please don't kill me.


	9. I Don't Have Time to Deal With This Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing. Sorry it's been a while, I just had no motivation for it, but now that I've passed Apocrypha (spoilers) I can continue on. Expect more updates soon!

Elsebet didn’t know how long she sat next to Marcurio’s body, not being able to move. She wanted to—gods, did she want to leave that place behind, wanted to never see it again—but her limbs wouldn’t obey her commands, and she felt like she wouldn’t be able to move again.

Neloth had tried to get her to move, but she had just thrown the last cube she had at him, not caring if it broke, and told him to do it himself.

She was only there because he wanted an assistant.

And now her friend was dead.

She heard the doors behind her open, but she didn’t need to look to know that Neloth was back.She had heard several pumps going while she had been sitting and grieving her friend, enough to know how the progress was going.

“Have you cried enough, yet?”

She ignored him and continued to hold her fingers against Marcurio’s neck, like if she kept them there, his heartbeat would come back. But she was in denial.

She wasn’t going to see him again.

“I have the last cube,” Neloth said.

“Let’s get this over with,” Elsebet said, and stood up.

She stared down at the body again, hesitant to leave his body where it was. She had had to leave Risorallen’s body behind, at the depths of Alftand. And now, in Nchardak, she was leaving another friend’s body behind.

She averted her eyes, said one last goodbye, and led the way up the walkway.

She took the three cubes Neloth had and placed them in three of the four pumps, then went up to the top balcony and took off one of the cubes. She stared at the water as it engulfed her friend’s dead body, and shook the thought out of her head.

She had more pressing matters to deal with.

She went back down to the steam pumps and placed in the last cube. As she did, a bridge on the other side of the hall dropped onto the balcony, revealing a dwarven centurion that blew out steam. 

But Elsebet, not having the energy to fight, ran up the stairs, grabbed Neloth by the arm, and led the way to the elevator, the sounds of the Dwarven Centurion behind them.

She let go of Neloth’s arm when they reached the elevator, and she pulled the lever in the middle of it. The elevator started lifting into the air, lighter than what it had been the first time.

When the elevator came to a stop, Neloth ran out, and let out a whoop of joy.

Yes, it worked! The steam is flowing. Now it should be as simple as…” he went over to the pedestal and pressed the button on top of it. “That should do it.” 

Lights beamed onto the circles surrounding the Black Book’s case, and the glass opened, the pedestal it sat on lifting up.

“At last,” he said. “I hope it was worth it. Please… be my guest. You deserve the first look. Besides, it could be very dangerous. These books are known to drive people insane.”

“Lucky, then, that I’m not sane,” Elsebet said, and approached the Black Book.

Power radiated from it, drawing her in. She opened it, reading the title: Epistolary Acumen, by the Transparent One.

And the tendrils of knowledge surrounded her, and pulled her into the book, much like when she had read Waking Dreams.

She was falling, falling, and then the ground appeared underneath her feet.

_I know you, Champion_.

The deep, slow voice of Hermaeus Mora surrounded Elsebet, and she looked up to see him floating above her, above the platform she stood on with a strange stalk-like thing in front of her.

The Oghma Infinium was just the beginning. This is Apocrypha, where all knowledge is hoarded. Sate your thirst for knowledge in the endless stacks of my library. If you tire of your search, read your book again to return to your mortal life. For a time. The lure of Apocrypha will call you back. It is your fate.

He slowly disappeared, leaving her alone in his realm of Oblivion.

She took a deep breath and looked at her surroundings. In front of her was a stalk-like pillar thing, and in front of her was what looked like a curled piece of path. There was no way off the platform.

Curious, she took a step towards the stalk thing, the word _scrye_ entering her mind as she reached out to touch it. She touched the round orc at the top of the scrye, and it sank into itself, what she assumed was its leaves covering it.

In front of her, the path uncurled, resting on top of the thick black water, until it was long enough to reach the hall that was moving side to side.

She made her way to the end of it, and waited until it was in front of her, and she stepped onto it. She made her way down the hall as it continued to move from side to side, until she reached a bit that wasn’t moving, papers flowing like a mini tornado. On the other side was another moving hall, and she made her way to the end of it as it reached a platform with another scrye on it. 

She jumped onto the platform as the hall started swinging the other way, and touched the scrye. On another platform, identical to the one she had come off of before, another path unfurled, and she made her way there, stepping onto the moving hall and onto the unfurled path.

In front of her was an open book, the letters on its pages swirling incomprehensibly, in a language she couldn’t read.

She placed her hand on the open pages, and it lit up for a second before sucking her into the pages, and she was falling again.

The floor appeared underneath her feet, and she found herself in a round hallway made of those curled up paths, with loose pages swirling around everywhere. She walked the length of the hallway, arms up to protect her face from the papers, until she reached the end, and activated the scrye.

Turning around, the paths unfurled, revealing a room with those weird beasts she had seen with Miraak. The two of them turned to her, and let out the energy they had shot at her before. Being able to move, though, she ducked out of the way, and pulled her bow off her shoulder.

She knocked an arrow and aimed at the farthest one, letting it loose. It sailed through the air, hitting the creature in the chest, and a second arrow killed it, making it fold in on itself until it was just a pile of its fur.

She killed the second creature, and it melted into another puddle. She pulled her bow off her shoulder and searched around for a scrye she could activate to open the doors leading up a staircase and to what looked like the next open book.

She found it opposite the doors, and she touched it, opening the gates. She also found a pod sort of thing, and she pried it open to see a pile of books and scrolls inside it.

She remembered what Neloth had told her. Many people went insane in Apocrypha.

She decided to leave the books where they were, but took the scrolls.

She went up the staircase and reached the book. Without hesitating, she placed her hand on the pages and got sucked into it.

She appeared in a large room with scrye like things that lit up the room with a hazy yellow glow, combatting the sickly green that came from the writhing sky. She started making her way through it, bow drawn in case there were any more of the creatures.

She found out they could turn invisible when one appeared right in front of her, and threw a ball of energy at her before she could nock an arrow. She stumbled backwards and shot an arrow at its face, turning into a puddle.

She went up the steep stairs behind it, her legs beginning to hurt halfway up them, and found herself on a small platform with a small pool of the oily liquid that covered the entire floor of the realm, and she vaguely wondered how anyone could be fooled into getting stuck there. It wasn’t very inviting.

She made her way onto another platform, with another swinging hallway that she could jump onto. When it reached her, she did, and made her way down it until she reached a gate with a scrye in front of it. She touched it, opening the gate, and continued down the hall until it curved around on itself. And as she reached the end of the hall, it shifted, moving so it pointed back to the gates she had opened before, but now, from  a different angle, a different passage that ran through it.

She activated the scrye, opening the gates, and made her way through the next corridor, killing the strange daedra that inhabited Apocrypha. When she got to the end of the hall, there was another book. She placed her hand on its pages, and got sucked into it.

She appeared on top of a tower with a small pool of the ink-like liquid in the middle, another tower in front of her, its paths closed like the petals of a flower. 

She stepped around the pool and touched the scrye, the paths unfurling to reveal another book, this one closed, looking a lot like the book she had read to enter Apocrypha.

She made her way to it, tracing her fingers over the cover, before prying it open. When she did, Hermaeus Mora appeared in front of her, on the other side of the book, his one eye staring at her.

_Well done, my Champion_.

Oh, she hated that  slow drawl of his. She wished he would speed up, as the tone made it feel like he was talking slow on purpose to be condescending—in truth, that wouldn’t be too out-of-character for him, considering he was known as the Demon of Knowledge, and knew basically everything ever.

_Your journey to enlightenment has finally led you here, to my realm, as I knew it would._

“What do you want with me this time?” she asked him.

_You have entered my realm. You have sought out forbidden knowledge that only one other has obtained. You are Dragonborn, like Miraak before you. A seeker of knowledge and power._

She nodded. “Yes, I came here to learn Miraak’s secrets.”

_All that he knows he learned from me._

_Shit_ , she thought. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to learn anything from the Prince.

_I know what you want: to use your power as Dragonborn to bend the world to your will. Here then is the knowledge you need, although you did not know you needed it. The second Word of Power. Use it to bend the wills of mortals to your purpose._

A wave of power washed over her, and she felt it sink into her bones and her bloodstream. A new Word of Power, _Hah_ , but locked. She didn’t have any extra dragon souls inside of her to unlock it yet. But with Miraak stealing them, she didn’t know if she would be able to get it.

_But this is not enough. Miraak knows the final Word of Power. Without that, you cannot hope to surpass him. Miraak served me well, and he was rewarded. I can grant you the same power as he wields, but all knowledge has its price._

“So what’s your price for the final Word of Power?” she asked him. She wanted to get this over with. She hated being in Apocrypha, and the more time she spent in it, the more she wanted to stay.

She couldn’t stay.

_Knowledge for knowledge. The Skaal have withheld their secrets from me for many long years. The time has come for this knowledge to be added to my library._

“What if the Skaal refuse to give up their secrets?”

_My servant Miraak would have found a way to bring me what I want. So will you if you wish to surpass him. Send the Skaal shaman to me. He holds the secrets that will be mine._

And then he disappeared, melting away.

Three balls of green energy peeled off the open book in front of her, that would send her back to Solstheim. Each one, she could feel a different power come off of it—one with the same power as Unrelenting Force, the second the same as her Fire Breath Shout, and the third one a cold energy she wasn’t familiar with.

Her hand gravitated to the first one, the one with Unrelenting Force. She touched it, and the energy crawled up her arm, sinking into her flesh, and she felt her Thu’um become more powerful than it had ever been.

She let out a shaky breath at the feeling, and grinned.

She touched the open book, and she was sucked through it, falling, falling.

But this time, she wasn’t scared.


	10. A Deal Fulfilled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

As soon as she was back in the reading room of Nchardak, Elsebet was hounded by Neloth.

“What happened? What did you see?” he asked, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes and coating his voice. “Different people have very different experiences when reading these books.”

She blinked and shook her head, trying to get her bearings and get used to the new power she gained. “I talked with Hermaeus Mora.”

He blinked, surprised. “You’re still acting surprisingly sane, too. What did he have to say? He must have wanted something from you.”

“He taught me the second Word of the Bend Will Shout.”

“No wonder the Dwemer were so interested in that book. It was indeed one that Miraak used to advance his power as Dragonborn. But I assume there’s some bad news? It would be unlike Hermaeus Mora to allow anyone to gain such knowledge without exacting a price.”

“He wants the “secrets of the Skaal” in exchange for teaching me the third Word,” she said, still a bit dazed.

He suddenly looked uninterested. “Hmph. What secrets could they have worth keeping from old Mora? Sounds like a bargain to me. Hermaeus Mora learns some fascinating new ways to skin a horker and you become the second most powerful Dragonborn that ever lived. Well that gives me a lot to think about. I need to get back to Tel Mithryn. I have some ideas about how to locate more of these Black Books…”

A deafening roar sounded from outside, one that Elsebet recognised. She swore as Neloth lit spells in his hands, wondering what it was. The Dragonborn ran outside, unsheathing Dragonbane and Chillrend, and reading her Dragonrend Shout.

Flying around the sunken towers of Nchardak was a dragon— _Krosulhah_ , the voice inside her head told her—roaring loudly.

“By Malacath’s toenails, where did that come from?” Neloth exclaimed.

Elsebet glanced at him, confused by the expletive, before her attention was brought back to the dragon, who was starting to speak.

“Miraak has commanded your death,” he said. “So it shall be.”

Gritting her teeth, she Shouted at him where he hovered.

“ _JOR ZAH FRUL!_ "

The purple energy surrounded him, and forced him to land on the almost-sunken platform Neloth and Elsebet stood on. They attacked him, Neloth summoning a storm atronach to help.

Elsebet jabbed and slashed at Krosulhah’s thick hide drawing blood all over his face and neck.

She rolled out of the way of his fire breath, and Shouted back at him.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

It knocked the dragon back slightly, which gave Elsebet pause. She’d Shouted at a dragon before, but she’d never been able to get it to budge from it. Now that her Unrelenting Force Shout was more powerful, it could move a _dragon_.

She wondered what it would do to a person now.

One more bolt of lightning from Neloth’s storm atronach, and the dragon was dead. His skin started crackling and disappearing, and for a quick second she wondered if she was going to get the soul. It rushed towards her, but passed by her entirely, and she turned around to see a spectral Miraak standing there, absorbing the soul, and she could tell he was smirking under his mask.

“It takes a strong will to command a dragon’s soul. Perhaps you aren’t as powerful as you think.”

She threw her sword at him, but it went right through him. She screamed in frustration as he disappeared, and collapsed onto her knees next to the skeletal remains of the dragon she and Neloth had just killed.

“What was that?” the Dunmer wizard asked.

“He just stole my dragon soul,” she muttered through grit teeth. She then shouted to the sky, “How am I supposed to unlock these Words if I don’t have any dragon souls?”

Neloth placed a hand on his chin. “Maybe you could go back to Skyrim,” he said.

She looked up at the old wizard. “What?”

“Miraak’s power is in Solstheim, correct?” When she nodded, he continued, “Then he would have little to no power in Skyrim, considering how far away it is, and get your dragon souls there.”

She got to her feet and grinned at him. “Neloth, you’re a genius! I’m going to go tell Storn and then I’m gonna go to Skyrim!”

She ran to where her sword had landed, and then started running off the sunken city and towards the Skaal Village, sheathing her sword on the way.

When she got there, she was out of breath and met by Paces.

The Skaal looked at the sight of her and asked, “What happened? Where’s Marcurio?”

“Dead,” she huffed. “Where’s your father?”

He pointed to where the shaman was knelt down in the middle of the town, and she made her way over to him. She called his name, and he looked over at her as she approached.

“I spoke to Hermaeus Mora,” she told him. “He asked for the “secrets of the Skaal”.”

He sighed. “Hermaeus Mora… old Herma-Mora himself. So he is the source of Miraak’s power. Of course. We have many tales of Herma-Mora trying to trick us into giving up our secrets to him. And now he comes again for what we have long kept from him.”

“He said it’s the only way he’ll teach me the final Word of Miraak’s Shout,” she told him. She knew how much secrets were valued and she knew how hard they were to give up—there was still that secret that Arcaelo had promised to tell her before Elsebet had left for Solstheim that she still hadn’t been told.

“So it falls to me to be the one to give up the secrets to our ancient enemy. I do not know if I have the strength to face him. The Tree Stone is still corrupted… the land is still out of balance. But with the other five restored… it may be enough. It will have to be.”

She blinked at him. “You mean you’ll give him what he wants?”

He nodded. “Yes. The Skaal also tell of the day when we must finally give up our secrets. When Herma-Mora finally wins. As shaman, it is my duty to guard these secrets, but also to decide when it is necessary to give them up. I believe that time is now. If I am wrong, may my ancestors forgive me.” He stood up and held out an arm. “Give me the book. I will read it, and speak to old Herma-Mora myself. I will make sure he lives up to his part of the bargain.”

Elsebet pulled the book out of her pack and gave it to him. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“That is my hope as well. I am trusting that you make this sacrifice worthwhile.”

“Father, you must not do this,” Frea told him, coming up to them. At the same time her brother, Paces, approached them. “That book is… wrong. Evil. Against everything you taught Paces and I our whole lives.”

“I must, Frea,” Storn said. “It is the only way to free Solstheim forever from Miraak’s shadow. There comes a time when everything must change. Nothing that lives remains the same forever. Do not fear for me, my daughter. This is the destiny that the All-Maker has laid out for me.”

Frea straightened her back and nodded with tears in her eyes. “I stand beside you, Father, as always.”

“As I do, too,” Paces said, standing next to his sister.

“I am ready for whatever the foul master of this book has in store for me.”

He opened the book, and instead of being sucked into it like Elsebet had, the book pulled itself out of Storn’s hands, tentacles coming out of the pages as the Skaal shaman took a step back, and pierced their sharp tips through different parts of Storn’s body, pulling him off his feet and into the air. 

Hermaeus Mora himself appeared above the book as Frea let out a cry, the only thing holding her back from attacking the Daedra being her brother.

_At last, the Skaal yield up their secrets to me._

Elsebet’s heart beat erratically in her chest as she watched Storn struggle against the tentacles holding him in place.

“You… liar… gah!… I won’t… not… for you…”

He let out a scream dripping in pain, and Frea held a hand out towards him.

“Father! No, stop!”

“Do something!” Paces told Elsebet.

It was at that moment that Hermaeus Mora’s eye turned to her. 

_Dragonborn, you have delivered me the gift I requested. In return, I keep my promise, as befits a Prince of Oblivion: I give you the Word of Power that you need to challenge Miraak._

Power filled her veins again, and the locked Word joined the rest that she knew. But there was something different about that Word. The entirety of her run to the Skaal Village, she had wondered what the third Word could be, if the second could control the minds of man and mer.

But now, she knew what it was.

_Dov_.

The revelation hit her like she had been dropped by Alduin again. That was why Miraak was so powerful, why that Serpentine dragon, Sahrotaar, in Apocrypha did what Miraak told him to do. Because he could control dragons.

And now, so could she.

The tentacles were pulled from Storn, retreating back into the Black Book. Together, Storn and the book fell to the ground, the former dead, and the latter full of more knowledge than it had had before.

_You will be either a worthy opponent or his successor, as the tides of fate decree._

He disappeared, then, leaving his book lying on the ground.

Frea broke out of her brother’s hold and fell to her knees besides her father. “Father! What have you done!” She looked up at Elsebet, tears streaming down her face, as her brother joined her. “Go. My father sacrificed himself so that you could destroy Miraak and lift his master’s shadow from the land. Go, then. Kill Miraak. Do not fail.”

“I cannot defeat him now,” she told the Skaal woman. “I don’t have enough dragon souls to unlock the Words Hermaeus Mora gave me. I need to leave for now, but I promise, I will be back. I _will_ defeat Miraak.”

Frea stood up, and clasped Elsebet’s forearm in her hand. “You have not disappointed us yet. I trust that you will be back. Just hurry, please. Avenge my father.”

Elsebet clasped Frea’s forearm. “I will. I promise.”

She slipped her arm out of Frea’s grip and made her way through the village, keeping her eyes on the ground as everyone watched her. She could feel their grief, and she wished she could help them, but she was still grieving herself—it really hadn’t been that long since Marcurio died, and he had been a childhood friend.

Oblivion, she still wasn’t over the deaths of Lydia and Risorallen.

It was a long trek to Raven Rock, that took up the rest of the day. She was exhausted, and cold. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head as she left the Retched Netch, after picking up all of her items, and headed towards the docks.

Gjalund was happy to take her back to Skyrim, and as she sat on the deck watching the sailors man the ship, she realised just how quick the journey had been.

She’d gotten significantly more powerful in the time she’d been in Solstheim, with the Dragon Aspect and Bend Will Shouts, she’d been to a plane of Oblivion—another one, if she was counting the mind of Pelagius III—and she’d lost a friend.

All in three days.

The _Northern Maiden_ pulled out of the dock, and Elsebet watched as the town of Solstheim slowly disappeared. Once it did, she went below deck and slept.

When she woke up in the morning, she could no longer see Solstheim.

* * *

“We're nearing Solstheim!”

Rune looked up at where Daloves Senthran sat in the crow’s nest, and everyone on board started getting excited. The Wood Elf twins, Thraior and Iingaen, whooped happily from where they hung off the rigging of the main mast. Ioni Sea-Farer, the only Nord on board _The Winter Sands_ , grinned as she slapped Maeola on the back.

“It’ll be a shame to lose you,” Gerred Petiie, a Breton from Stros M’kai, told Rune.

“It’s a shame to leave,” Rune told him. And it would be—he had enjoyed his time on the multi-cultural ship. He’d learned a lot from his time on board, about how to sail and the different circumstances each of the crewmembers came to crew the ship. He learned that Curola boarded the ship to escape an arranged marriage, and that Daiane Rolrick had been kicked out of her house because she was attracted to women. And he’d met people from different parts of Tamriel that he’d never go to—Qa’eena was from Senchal, in Elsweyr, Zarione was from Sentinel in Hammerfell, and Shaeen was from Soulrest in Black Marsh.

Gerred side-eyed him. “You don’t have to leave. You could become the newest member of the crew of _The Winter Sands_.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I need to find Elsebet. And to do that, I need the Dragonborn.”

“Do you even know if the Dragonborn’s still on Solstheim?” Caldabel Galliel, an Imperial from Windhelm, asked. “It’s been four days, and the island isn’t that big.”

“If she’s not, I’ll find out where she is,” he said. “I’m going to find her.”

“Do you even know what the Dragonborn looks like?” Glarndil Oakrun, the Bosmer Second Mate, asked him.

He shook his head. “No, but Arcaelo said she was there, and I trust her.”

“Leave him alone,” Elarri, told them as he pulled on a bit of rope. “This one thinks it is admirable to be looking for a loved one.”

“This one thinks it’s creepy and called ‘stalking’,” Jolilyn Sanuette said, copying Elarri’s Khajiiti accent. “And I should know, it’s why I stayed on this miserable ship.”

“Don’t let M’dahna hear you say that,” Caldabel told her. “She’d kick your ass all the way back to the Farrun docks she found you on. She hasn’t gotten attached to you yet, so she will do that.”

Jolilyn rolled her eyes. “Whatever. But are you sure this Elsebet wants you to follow her? I mean, did _she_ love _you?_ ”

Rune honestly hadn’t thought of that question. “I-I don’t know. We shared a kiss, and then she almost died, and then because the Guildmaster of the Skyrim Thieves Guild, then she disappeared.”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely stalking her,” Glarndil said. “Don’t take it too hard when she rejects you.”

Rune gave him the finger as the ship neared the island, and Raven Rock.

It was strange, being there. He’d never left Skyrim before, and now, after a four-day voyage, he was about to stand on Morrowind soil. It would be completely different for him.

They were still about an hour out, and Rune was getting jumpy. He had been surrounded by too many people for too long, and they were all noisy and disruptive. He’d enjoy not having to work, too.

When _The Winter Sands_ finally docked at Raven Rock, he said goodbye to everyone and disembarked the old ship.

The first person he spoke to was an old Dunmer man who stopped him when he got to the ash-covered land.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” the Dunmer said. “I am Second Counsellor Arano. What is your business in Raven Rock?”

“I’m looking for the Dragonborn,” Rune said.

He blinked. “The Dragonborn? Well, I’m sorry to say, but she left two days ago.”

Rune’s mood fell instantly. “Do you know where she went?”

“Back to Skyrim, I believe,” Arano said. “But she did say that she would be coming back; something about a promise to the Skaal people. So your best chance at finding her when she gets back is to go to Skaal Village, on the other side of the island.”

His mood was back up. “Really? Thank you!”

During his spare times on the ship captained by M’dahna, Rune had studied the map of Solstheim, so he knew exactly where Skaal Village was, and he took no time in heading there.

The only problem was, when he got there, they were holding a funeral.

He decided to wait on the outskirts of the town, until they were done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy about the end of this chapter. It feels like it just cuts off, but if I continued, I would have had to do the entire encounter of Rune meeting the Skaal, and I wanted to do that next chapter.


	11. Another Gods Damned Prophecy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Paces saw the man standing at the edge of the village just after the funeral for Storn started, and he had feared that he would interrupt it. But he was pleasantly surprised when he stayed on the edge of the village, watching but not interfering, until the end of it.

The village leader, Fanari Strong-Voice, made her way over to him, and Paces followed. Now that his father was dead, Frea was to become the shaman, since she was firstborn, but Paces had also been learning the ways of the shamans since he was a child. He could help the situation.

“You are a stranger to this village,” Fanari told the man. “Who are you, and want to do you want?”

“My name is Rune,” he said. “I seek the Dragonborn.”

“She’s not here,” Fanari told him.

“I was told she would be back.”

“She will be. Not sure when, but she will be,” she said. “Why do you want her?”

“I need her help,” he said. “The woman I loved disappeared, and I need to find her.”

“If you want to wait for her, you are more than welcome to,” Fanari said, “but you will need to respect our traditions.”

Rune nodded. “I will. I’ll talk to the Dragonborn about finding Elsebet, and then I will be on my way.”

Paces and Fanari shared a look, confused.

Paces looked back at the Imperial. “Elsebet _is_ the Dragonborn,” he said slowly.

He shook his head. “No, you must be mistaken. Elsebet _knows_ the Dragonborn.”

“You are the one that is mistaken,” Frea said, appearing behind her fellow Skaal people. “We have fought together, and I know her name well.”

He shook his head again. “But—she _can’t_ be. She wouldn’t have _lied_ to me.”

“Red hair, two different coloured eyes, about yea tall?” Paces asked, and put his arm up to show someone about six foot tall.

He nodded. “That’s her, that’s Elsebet.”

“I was just describing the Dragonborn,” Paces told him. “Just face it—your love is the Dragonborn.”

* * *

It had only been eleven days since Elsebet had been in Skyrim, and yet it felt longer. It was different, too, not having Marcurio beside her, like when she had arrived on Solstheim, but she would have to deal with it.

She thanked Captain Gjalund and disembarked his ship, and entered the city of Windhelm.

She always felt on-edge when she was in Windhelm, ever since she had yelled at Ulfric Stormcloak at the peace meeting up in High Hrothgar, and he had declared her an enemy. She was just glad that the guards didn’t know who she was, otherwise there would be a large amount of people either hailing her or running her out of the city.

Luckily, though, she got through the city without much hassle, and after getting her horse from the stables, started on the road to wherever.

She didn’t know where she was going as she took the road leading west. She didn’t know where any dragons were, or if they could feel her nearby. She was still relatively new to the whole ‘Dragonborn’ thing—it had been less than a year since she found out what she was—so there were still a lot of questions she had about her blood and her soul.

She didn’t know how long she had been in her thoughts, but as the sky darkened, she realised she was heading towards Winterhold. She shook her head as a light snowfall started, and she heard the roar of a dragon nearby.

Her ears pricked, and she threw her head up into the sky. A dragon was flying in the sky, too high up to see her, at the peak near the Shrine of Azura. She remembered going to the Shrine once, as a child, and remembered that there was a goat trail that lead through the mountains, going to the Shrine and up passed it.

She spurred her horse faster, and found the trail just south of Whistling Mine. A grin appeared on her face as the path went up sharply and looped around, goats dotting the trail, until she got to the Shrine—a large grey statue of Azura against the white-washed landscape of Whiterun, her arms outstretched and carrying a crescent moon in one hand and a sun in the other, stone robes billowing around her. 

She remembered the Dark Elf that had tended the Shrine since before she was born, and the knowing smile given to her. She couldn’t remember the Dark Elf’s name, or what she even looked like, but she would always remember the words she had told her:

_When the time comes, you will come back here. Either in this life or the next, Azura’s call will be too strong to ignore._

Her mother had taken her by the hand and refused to let her get near the Dark Elf again.

She shook her head of the memory as she dismounted her horse, and continued up the mountain trail to the top of the mountain. Before she reached the peak, though, she unsheathed her swords and readied Dragonrend.

Almost as soon as she reached the flat top of the mountain, the dragon that sat on a Word Wall on the other side— _Zeimvenlok_ —launched himself into the air, and roared into the sky.

“ _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_ ”

The purple energy surrounded Zeimvenlok, and he was pulled to the ground. Elsebet wasted no time in attacking him, electrocuting him with Dragonbane and freezing him with Chillrend.

It wasn’t long before she struck the killing blow, and absorbed his soul.

The power that coursed through her was like a drug. The soul twisted and turned inside of her, wanting to be used, and she directed it to _Hah_ , one of the two Words she needed to unlock. And as it did, she felt her power increase.

And though she couldn’t see it, when she opened her eyes, for a split second, they were slits, like a dragon.

As it settled inside of her, she sheathed her swords and made her way to the Word Wall Zeimvenlok had launched himself off of. She read the inscription, which she could read perfectly, despite being in Dovahzul.

_Noble Nords remember these words of the hoar father: Even best steel may bend and break, but flesh of true men is unyielding._

She planted her hand onto the glowing Word of _Slen_ , of Flesh, but she knew it wasn’t _Slen_ she was getting—it was a different Word, and as her skin absorbed the glow, she realised it was _Iiz_ , the first Word in the Frost Form Shout.

She made her way back down the mountain to the Shrine of Azura, where her horse was waiting for her. He whinnied, and jerked his head towards the top of the fort-like structure that served as the statue’s base, and she followed his gaze.

Staring at her from the edge of it, dressed in dark blue robes, the hood over her head, was the same Dark Elf woman Elsebet remembered from her childhood.

Patting the neck of her horse, Elsebet made her way to the steps leading up to where the woman stood, and when she reached the woman, the statue towering over her, the Dark Elf woman smiled.

“I knew you would come back,” she said, “for Azura has seen your coming. It was not curiosity, but fate, that has led you here.”

Elsebet blinked at her for a second, before shaking her head. “I don’t believe in fate.”

“Perhaps it is what you are meant to believe,” she told Elsebet. “To better serve your role as Azura’s champion. Do not fight it. Azura’s prophecies always come to pass. To deny them is to go headlong into the darkness with no light to guide you.”

Elsebet nodded. “Very well. What does Azura need?”

The Dark Elf smiled at her. “You must go to a fortress, endangered by water, yet untouched by it. Inside, you will find an elven mage who can turn the brightest star as black as night.” She sighed when she saw Elsebet’s confused expression. “It is cryptic, I know, but Azura’s signs are never wrong. I believe the fortress may refer to Winterhold. Ask if they know this elven enchanter.”

Elsebet nodded, already having a sneaking suspicion of who the elven mage was. Nelacar, an Altmer mage, had been living in the Frozen Hearth Inn since she could remember, and Dagur, the innkeeper, was always having trouble with him.

She made her way to Winterhold, going straight to the Frozen Hearth. She shut the door behind her, saying hello to those that greeted her, until she made her way to Nelacar’s room, and knocked on the door.

A grumble sounded from the other side of the door, and Nelacar jerked the door open, a scowl on his face.

“What don’t you get from ‘I don’t want to be distur-’” He interrupted himself, blinking when he saw who was outside the door. “Oh, Elsebet, hello. Sorry, I thought you were Haran. What do you want?”

“I’m looking for an elven mage that studies stars,” she said, cryptically. She was hoping that he would confirm her suspicions by knowing what she was talking about—if she was correct in her suspicions that Azura wanted the mage because of her infinite soul gem, her Star.

He narrowed his eyes accusingly, and almost hissed at her. “Who sent you? Was it the College? The Jarl? We agreed there would be no more questions.”

“A priestess of Azura sent me,” she told him, now that she knew he was the one she was looking for.

“Azura?” he asked. When she nodded, he continued. “Gods, it’s all finally coming back to haunt me.” He sighed. “You better come in. We can talk in here.”

He opened the door wider for her to enter. He motioned for her to sit down in one of the chairs, and she did, with him pulling a chair from the nearby table so he could sit facing her.

“What do you know about soul gems?” he asked her.

“They’re for enchanting.”

“They are. Except the gem is always consumed. They’re frail. Except for one. Azura’s Star. A Daedric artefact that allows any number of souls to pass through it. Some of us wanted to find out how. I was working under Malyn Varen, then. If only we knew what he was really planning.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What did he do?”

“Malyn wanted to alter the Star,” he told her. “He was dying. Disease. He thought he could store his own soul inside. Become immortal. It drove him mad. Students started dying. Eventually, the College exiled him. He took a few loyal disciples to Ilinalta’s Deep and vanished.” He sighed and waved his arm. “Look, I don’t care who asked you to find the Star, but don’t take it back to Azura. The Daedra are evil. They’re the reason Malyn went insane.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” she told him. “You can’t just say that you’ll betray a Daedra, especially a Prince.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

She leaned back in her chair. “I am curious as to how the Star works, though.”

A small smirk appeared on his thin lips before it went back to its usual annoyed expression. “I mentioned how the Star is a soul gem, only it never gets depleted? There’s another rule the artefact follows. You can only store white souls in the Star, belonging to the lesser creatures. Azura’s magic won’t allow black souls to enter it. As a mortal, Malyn’s soul was black, so part of his work was breaking past Azura’s rules. He was close before… well, I already told you.”

Elsebet nodded, understanding. “And how exactly did the daedra drive Malyn insane?”

“Azura is no ordinary daedra,” he told her. “As a Prince, she commands an entire realm inside of Oblivion. The more Malyn worked on the Star, the more she was able to damn him. It started slowly at first. Malyn would see things that weren’t there. Then he would yell at students over words they hadn’t said. Then one day I walked in and Malyn had… killed a student, and in a horrific moment of inspiration, he started using her soul for his work.”

“It sounds like Malyn got what was coming to him.”

“The College would agree with you, but do you have any idea how many innocent lives were cut short, just so Azura could have revenge?” he asked her. “We’re _nothing_ to the Daedra. Pawns to move around, praise, and punish as they seem fit.”

Elsebet honestly wasn’t surprised. The Daedra don’t have a good reputation, because of all the shit they’ve caused since the beginning of everything. Oblivion, Mehrunes Dagon had caused the Oblivion Crisis two hundred years earlier, and was the reason why they didn’t have anymore Septim Emperors.

She wondered what it would be like with a Septim Emperor.

“I’ll take this all into consideration,” she told Nelacar, “but I can’t just betray a Daedra. My life is shit as it is, I don’t want it to be worse.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. He watched as Elsebet stood up and left his room.

When she closed the door, she took a deep breath. It was late, and she was tired. She’d head to Ilinalta’s Deep in the morning, but first, she needed to see her mother.


	12. A Moist Fort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Ilinalta’s Deep was a ruin of an Imperial fort, sunken into lake Ilinalta.

“Do we have to go in there?” Istah asked, scowling at the trapdoor leading into the ruin, standing on top of a wooden bridge built to get to it.

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Elsebet told him, making her way to the trapdoor.

He scoffed. “And let you have all the adventure? You’ve already had enough of it, share it around, would you?”

She gave him an incredulous look from where she was crouched next to the trapdoor, its pull ring in her hand. “Do you want to be the Dragonborn? Because I will _happily_ give the power to you, if I could.”

She opened the trapdoor and started down the ladder that led into the tower.

“You know what, I’m going to let you keep it,” her brother said, talking down through the trapdoor.

Elsebet looted a knapsack beneath a skeleton as he came down the ladder. He let out a scream when he saw it, and she looked over her shoulder at him.

“What?” she asked. “Haven’t you seen a dead body before?”

He shook his head.

“You know you’re going to have to kill people in here, right?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t be up for the job.

“You know what? I’m going to go back to Whiterun. I’ll meet you at the Bannered Mare when you’re done, see you there.”

And then he climbed up the ladder and closed the trapdoor behind him.

She sighed. She knew that if she was in his position, she would have done the exact same thing. He was twenty-two, and he hadn’t killed anyone—that was a miracle, considering the world they lived in. 

But he had never been much for violence—it was why he chose Alteration as his preferred school of magic, because you didn’t harm people with it, and was mostly defensive, until you became a master at it, like Tolfdir at the College of Winterhold.

Elsebet trudged through the water that trickled in from the lake surrounding it and down a hallway, into an empty room. She stepped over the rubble that littered the floor, taking a quick glance at the indoor waterfall that came from the upper level, and down another hallway.

She turned the corner, into a small room. Sitting at one of the tables was a mage, and a skeleton guarded the door forward. Drawing her bow, she nocked an arrow, and aimed at the mage—necromancer, really, if the skeleton was anything to go by.

She let her bowstring go, and it sailed across the room, hitting the necromancer in the back and causing him to sprawl over the table he was sat at. The skeleton drew an ancient Nordic battleaxe and approached the dead necromancer, only to fall apart when her next arrow hit it, its bones falling into the ankle-high water.

She looted the room of its various potions and what looked like a human heart on the table the necromancer had been sitting at, and advanced through the ruin. She had wanted to take the books, but after checking them, most of them had some kind of water damage, and they wouldn’t sell for anything, no matter if they were rarer books or not.

The next room was large, almost like a dining hall. There were two necromancers inside, but Elsebet quickly killed them. The next room, though a curving hallway, was mostly underwater, with only the balcony she stood on being semi-dry, as nothing in the fort could be fully dry, not when it was mostly submerged in water.

On the other side of the water-filled room was a necromancer flanked by two skeletons. The three of them were downed easily, and she continued on her way. The next room was empty of necromancers, but there were several beds standing on different parts of rubble, and for a quick second she wondered what it would be like to sleep in the moist fort, before she shook it out of her head and continued down the next corridor.

She turned another corner and found herself in a long room, with several necromancers inside. She shot the closest one, a woman sitting and reading a book with the conjuration symbol on the cover, alerting the other two that there was someone with them.

The second necromancer cast a spell at his dead comrade, but he was shot in the neck, making the first necromancer turn to dust. The third necromancer had spotted her, at that point, and was nearing her with a ward up and a flame spell in her other hand, ready to attack.

Elsebet ducked behind the wall and back into the corridor she just left, and her Thu’um crawled up her throat. She nocked an arrow and went back around the wall, shooting it at the necromancer, but it changed course slightly as it passed through the necromancer’s ward, and missed her by a hair.

She swore as her ward came down, and that was her chance.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

The Shout left her every orifice, every pore in her skin, and knocked her back from how powerful it was now. 

It soared towards the necromancer and hit her full-on. But instead of knocking her backwards, it was like her very person was hit so hard she started disintegrating, until she was just a pile of dust on the floor of the damp fort.

Horrified, Elsebet’s shaky hand went up to her mouth, but a noise behind her made her turn around and nock an arrow, aiming the point at the end of the hallway.

Standing there was Istah, eyes wide with fear.

She lowered her bow and slackened the bowstring. “What are you doing here.”

“I thought about it, and I realised that death is something that happens in this world,” he said. “These people aren’t kind, and their families probably already think of them as dead. It wouldn’t really make a difference if we killed them or not.”

She put the arrow back in her quiver. “I prefer not to think about what I’m about to do when I kill people. Come on, and be careful. These aren’t just normal mages, they’re necromancers. And try to be quiet."

He nodded, and she led the way through the long room and to the next one. The next part of the fort was a mess of winding halls and a flooded room. Istah did as Elsebet said and stayed back when there were necromancers, and she managed to kill them all with her arrows before he had to enter the fight, too.

At the top of a staircase was a door with a wooden beam over it. Elsebet lifted it and pushed the door open, and she and Istah found themselves on the balcony overlooking the first room they entered the fort in. They stepped into a stream of water that made the waterfall at the beginning and opened a door at the end of it, and the stream continued up until it hit a wall of caved-in rocks, with a staircase going down next to it.

Cautiously, the two siblings went down the staircase, Elsebet with her bow ready, and Istah ready with a frostbite spell in one hand and a stoneflesh spell in the other. At the bottom of the staircase and around a corner, Elsebet could hear a conversation between two necromancers, and she held up a finger to her brother so she could listen in.

“More souls are needed for the Star,” the first one said. “The last one died before he could be harvested.”

“We can’t take another villager from the surface so soon. I told you to prepare everything properly!”

“We can just sacrifice another disciple. Apprentice Haerlon will be no great waste.”

“Yes. He’ll do.”

They started moving, and Elsebet motioned for Istah to stay where he was. He frowned in confusion, but nodded.

She stood up and went around the corner, her Thu’um crawling up her throat for the second time that fort, and she Shouted at them.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

The Shout hit both of them, but while the man was blown away into dust, the woman slammed against the wall behind her, and she slid down it, groaning.

Elsebet narrowed her eyes as she nocked an arrow. So, her extra-powerful Unrelenting Force Shout doesn’t disintegrate everyone…

An arrow thudded into the necromancer’s chest, killing her.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Istah said.

They continued through the fort, through the prisons, until they reached another tower. Elsebet shot the mage in the round room, killing him, and the two siblings went up the circular steps to the level above.

There was no one in the room. Nothing of interest, either, except a skeleton sitting on a chair, with bodies at various stages of decay strewn at its feet, a chest next to a ladder leading out of the fort.

Elsebet neared the skeleton, cautiously in case it decided to come alive and attack her, and saw that there was a Star resting on the skeleton’s lap, a crack down its middle with different parts either a dark purple or a bright blue.

It was Azura’s Star, and it was broken.

Istah raised an eyebrow at it. “Is it supposed to look like that?"

Elsebet shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She picked it up and put it in her pack. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Despite it being the middle of spring, Winterhold was hit with a snowstorm as Elsebet and Istah climbed the mountain the Shrine of Azura sat upon. They were glad they had brought their cloaks with them, Istah’s being a sunshine yellow, otherwise they probably would have frozen to death.

The Dark Elf priest turned to them as they got to the base of the statue, and she gasped when she saw the broken Star held in Elsebet’s hand.

“Azura’s Star! I knew the Lady of Twilight had sent you for a reason.” She held out her hand. “Hand it over me. I will ask Azura to restore the Star to its original purity.”

Elsebet held it out to her, and the Dunmer gratefully took it, placing it on the table in front of the statue and placing her hands on either side of it, closing her eyes and beginning to mutter.

“Azura. Mother of Roses. Goddess of Dusk and Dawn. Your chosen champion has returned your Star to you.” It was silent for a moment, before the Dunmer turned to Elsebet. “She wishes to speak to you herself. Please. Place your hands on the altar, and you will hear her voice.”

Elsebet nodded, and moved to where she had been standing, and placed her hands on either side of the broken Star.

_Greetings, mortal_.

Azura’s voice filled her head, beautiful and powerful, and it took all her willpower not to shudder.

_You have followed my guidance through the veils of Twilight, and rescued my Star from Malyn Varen. But his soul still resides within, protected by his enchantments. Until he is purged, my artefact is useless to you._

“Is there any way to cleanse the Star?” she asked, not seeing the bewildered stare from her brother.

_Eventually, the Star will fade back into my realm in Oblivion, but I doubt you have the hundred or so years it would take to wait. No, only one option remains. I will send you inside the Star. You will banish Malyn’s soul there. Tell me when you are ready, mortal._

Elsebet took a deep breath. “I’m ready to enter the Star.”

“What?” Istah asked. “You’re going into—she’s going into the—?”

“If it is what Azura wishes, yes,” the Dark Elf priest told him.

_Have faith, mortal. I will be watching over you._

She felt herself being sucked into the Star, and then she was falling. She landed on her feet, and she looked up to see herself standing atop a crystalline structure, random crystals jutting up around the edges. In front of her was a Dunmer in black robes, and even from the distance between them, she could see his sickly wicked grin.

“Ah, my disciples have sent me a fresh soul,” he said. “Good, I was getting… hungry.”

Elsebet scowled in disgust.

“Why… there’s something different about you.”

“This experiment of yours is over!”

He scowled at her. “And who are you to challenge me? I have conquered mortality itself. I’ve spat in the eyes of Daedra Lords. This is my realm now. I’ve sacrificed too much to let you take it from me!”

His hands lit with lightning, and he threw a bolt at Elsebet. She dodged to the side, into one of the large crystals, and she pushed herself off it and towards him. Ducking another bolt of lightning, she reached over her shoulder and grabbed an arrow, knocking it when she straightened, aiming it at him, and letting it fly.

It zoomed through the air and landed in his shoulder, making him let out a grunt of pain. He growled at her, a pile of ice growing in his other hand, and he launched it at her. She moved out of the way, and her thu’um started to climb her throat.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

It gathered in her veins before ejecting, and the blue energy pulsed forward, wrapping Malyn up and flinging him across the room. He hit a crystal with his back, and an arrow appeared in his chest.

Elsebet lowered her bow as Azura’s voice filled her head again.

_The Star’s free to purify itself. Don’t worry, mortal. I will return you before you are cleansed._

She felt herself fading, and then she was standing back at the Shrine of Azura, in front of the table with Azura’s Star resting on it, now whole and a gleaming white.

_My Star has been restored and Malyn’s soul has been consigned to Oblivion. You have done well, mortal. As was destined, you are free to use my Star as you see fit._

“I dislike the Daedra looking into my future.”

“Oh, she’s back,” Istah muttered off to the side.

_Oblivion has been watching you since the day you were conceived, mortal. Do not think that your life has been served by your will alone. Go now. I have seen the threads of your fate in the Twilight, and you still have much to accomplish._

She felt the Daedra’s spirit recede, and Elsebet took a deep breath, taking a step back from the altar. She blinked down at the Star, and took it. She ran her fingers over one of the points, staring down at it.

A hand appeared on her shoulder, and she looked over to see the Dunmer priestess lightly touching it.

“While you were in the Star, Azura gave me a vision. Her last, she said. I have never been without Azura’s foresight since escaping Morrowind. I don’t know what to do.”

Elsebet almost pitied her, as her voice held much sorrow, and loneliness.

“If you need me, I’d be honoured to accompany you, Guardian of the Star. It would give me purpose.”

Elsebet smiled at her. “Thank you.”

The Dunmer smiled back. “Twilight watch over you, Guardian.”


	13. Back to the City of Thieves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while, Christmas and all that. Enjoy this chapter!

It had been almost two weeks since Elsebet had been in Riften, and surprisingly, it had changed quite a bit. There was a dull fear that coated everything, and people kept tighter hands on their coinpurses as they passed. It seemed that while she had been away, Arcaelo had increased the amount of jobs the Thieves Guild got, and it already had an impact.

She made her way through the market district, heading to the graveyard that was connected to the backend of the Temple of Mara. She pressed the button that would reveal the secret entrance to the Cistern, pleasantly surprised when she didn’t hear the loud grating sound that usually accompanied it, meaning that Arcaelo had probably gotten someone to fix it.

She made her way down the set of stairs that were underneath it and down the ladder leading into the Cistern. She turned and made her way into the Cistern proper, and saw Arcaelo was talking to someone Elsebet didn’t know, a Khajiit with orange fur, his tail whipping around.

Arcaelo gave him a coinpurse, and the Khajiit left the desk. She went to go back to her business when she caught Elsebet’s eye, and she grinned as she stood up.

“Elsebet, it’s good to see you,” she said as the Nord approached her. “What are you doing back? I thought you had business in Solstheim?”

“I did, and I do,” she told the Imperial. “I just needed to get more dragon souls to complete my business.”

She looked at her in confusion. “Are there no dragons on Solstheim?”

“There are, it’s just that this prick called Miraak keeps taking them from me. I came here because his power isn’t strong enough to be here.”

She blinked. “Miraak? Where have I heard of that name…”

“He was the First Dragonborn,” Elsebet told her. “Apparently he’s been hanging around in Apocrypha, Hermaeus Mora’s realm of Oblivion, for the last four thousand years or so. He wants to leave so he’s enslaved all of Solstheim.”

“Wow,” Arcaelo muttered. “The First versus the Last. I’m taking this to mean that you’re no longer hiding who you are?”

“Yup. I’m being more open about it because of Miraak. And, I guess, Akatosh.”

“So what are you doing here, in Riften?”

Elsebet shrugged. “I’m not sure where any dragons are, so I thought I would come see some friends.”

“You didn’t want to go home?”

“Oh, I’ve already been there. Killed a dragon near the Shrine of Azura, and then became her Champion. It’s a long story,” she added when she saw Arcaelo’s bewildered expression.

“The Daedra are attracted to you, aren’t they?”

“Probably. She was the,” she started counting on her fingers, “fifth Daedric Prince I’ve championed in less than a year.”

“You have a problem.”

“Probably.”

They laughed together, and a Bosmer woman Elsebet didn’t know came up to Arcaelo, plopping down a large ruby on the desk.

“The job’s complete.”

Arcaelo nodded. “Well done. I’m assuming it wasn’t too much trouble.”

The Wood Elf smirked. “I’ve survived this long. Sneaking into the Blue Palace was child’s play.”

“Glad you think of it that way,” she said, and threw her a heavy coinpurse. “That’s your pay. Come to me tomorrow and I’ll have more work for you.”

The Bosmer nodded, and walked away.

“The Guild looks like it’s going well,” Elsebet noticed.

Arcaelo nodded. “Now that it has a Guildmaster that wants to see it flourish, it’s gained everything. New marks, new members, and we’ve got one more city until we have people all over Skyrim. I’m even thinking of expanding outside the borders, but if I do that, it’ll be a while down the road.”

Elsebet smiled lightly. “I knew you’d do the Guild some good.”

“Thank you,” she said. “But it’s nowhere near what the Guild used to be. I still have to talk to the leader of the Dark Brotherhood to see if our alliance still stands.” She shivered, like she dreaded the thought. “I don’t agree with what they do, but Mercer did a good thing by forming that alliance—probably the only good thing he’s ever done.”

“Why would that be?”

“So we don’t sell each other out,” Arcaelo told her. “Both of our Guilds are very lucrative, and with the war going on it’s gotten harder to do our jobs because everyone’s on edge. It does us both good to be allies.” A small smirk appeared on her face. “On the topic of the Civil War, the Pale was taken from the Stormcloaks. Cyres helped take it.”

Elsebet was impressed, and glad that the Imperials were gaining ground on the Stormcloaks. Racist bastards deserved it.

She opened her mouth to say something, when a roar shook the ground. She looked up to the ceiling, grinning.

She looked back at Arcaelo. “I’ll be back.”

“If you think you’re going without me, you’ve got another thing coming,” Arcaelo said, and together, they left the Cistern through the secret entrance. When they got to the surface, they saw a dark green dragon flying over the city, and could already see it was peppered with arrows.

The name _Lovenvum_ forced itself into Elsebet’s mind as she raced out of the graveyard, not realising that a couple guildmembers had followed her and Arcaelo out of the Cistern, and onto the wooden planks that hung over the canal, and she turned to the nearest guard as the dragon let out a burst of fire.

“Get it out of the city!” she shouted at him.

She could tell that under the helmet he was hesitant in following her orders, but realised it was probably the best thing to do and ordered the other guards to lure it out of the city.

A hand grabbed Elsebet’s arm and turned her around, right into the face of Delvin. “What in the gods names are yer doing? You’re going to get yerself killed!”

“Trust me,” she said, and ripped her arm from his grip. She turned around and pulled her bow off her shoulder, knocking an arrow and letting it fly at the dragon, just to help get it out of the city.

Shooting another arrow at Lovenvum’s hide, she dashed towards the gate leading out of the city. When she reached the gate, she turned around and shot another arrow at the dragon, making sure he was following her.

He roared in her direction and roared out a bellowing, “ _DOVAHKIIN!_ ”

A grin crept over Elsebet’s face as he flew in her direction, ignoring all the arrows that were flying at him, and she pushed her way through gates next to her, readying the Shout she planned on using on Lovenvum.

He flew over the walls as she placed her bow back on her back and unsheathed Dragonbane, which she had gotten back when she was in Winterhold from her mother, and unleashed the Shout, echoing over the city and wrapping around the dragon.

“ _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_ ”

He fell heavily to the floor, shaking the ground, and she ran over to him with Dragonbane brandished, arrows already thudding into his hide from the guards that were attacking it. She sliced the blade across his cheek, and he let out a roar as electrical energy sizzled around the wound. Elsebet grabbed the horn on the side of his head and pulled herself onto his head as he snapped at her, trying to shake her off. But she held her ground, and she plunged Dragonbane hilt-deep into his eye socket.

He let out one more roar, and slumped onto the ground, dead.

She pulled the sword out of his eye socket as his skin started crumbling, and she jumped off his head. She sheathed Dragonbane as gasps filled the air over by the open gate, and she looked over to see her fellow guild members staring at her as Lovenvum’s soul surrounding her and sank into her skin, and she swore she saw Vipir almost faint.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on Lovenvum’s soul, directing it to the right Word of Power she wanted to be able to use. Inside her, the soul connected with _Dov_ , the last Word of the Bend Will Shout, and she felt the power course through her veins, so much so that she gasped aloud.

She opened her eyes, and she saw that Thrynn was in front of her, a massive grin on his face.

“Glad you’re no longer hiding it,” he said.

She smiled back at him and nodded. “Me too.”


	14. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing.

It took five days for Elsebet to get back to Skaal Village. With the two Shouts unlocked, she entered the boundaries of the village, towards the Great Hall towards the back, where Frea and Paces were sitting with the elders of the village, helping to keep the barrier around the village up.

As she neared, Frea looked up at her. She didn’t say anything, but she nodded at the Dragonborn, her eyes red from what was probably days of crying.

Taking a deep breath as the only child of the village, Aeta, stopped to look at her with curiosity, Elsebet pulled Waking Dreams, the Black Book she had found at the bottom of Miraak’s Temple, out of her pack, and opened it.

Forbidden knowledge snaked up her arms like tendrils, wrapping around her and pulling her into its pages. She fell, and landed on the platform she had when she first entered the pages. The only difference was that Miraak, the dragon, Sahrotaar, and those strange creatures she’d seen around the place—she’d told Aletara about them and a little digging the Imperial found out they were called Seekers—weren’t there.

Taking another deep breath, she made her way to the staircase in front of her, and ascended them. On the other side of the platform was a book that would take her deeper into Apocrypha. She placed her hand in the middle of its open pages and was sucked inside.

She landed in a medium-sized chamber with stairs going up and around the walls, with walls and pillars of books and papers lying everywhere. She ascended the stairs to the right, a hand on her sword Chillrend just in case any of those Seekers were in there, and reached the top of the tiered staircase. 

She started forward on the platform that ran around the walls of the room when energy hit her square in the chest, knocking her backwards, but she kept her footing. She held up Chillrend and saw there was a Seeker in front of her, beside a table with a pile of books stacked on top of it. It released another bolt of energy, but Elsebet jumped out of the way of it and rushed towards it.

She slashed Chillrend across the Seeker’s chest, ducking out of the way of another wave of energy, and plunged it deep into the back of its neck. It let out a shrill cry and crumbled into a puddle of goo and ruined fur.

She continued around, until she reached a staircase and a wall. To the left was a bridge leading over half of the chamber she had just left, and went over it. She ascended a set of stairs and found herself in front of a pedestal with a book on top of it, but it wasn’t like the ones she went through. This one was closed, and set into its decaying greyish-green cover were the words _Boneless Limbs_.

Confused, she tried to open it, but the pages seemed to be stuck together. Try as she might, she couldn’t get it to open. Sighing, she picked it up to see if there was something she had to push to open it, but stopped looking when she heard a grating sound on the other side of the room. She looked up and saw that there was a set of stairs emerging from what she had previously thought was a wall.

She had a feeling the book had something to do with it.

She put the book in her pack and made her way back to the new set of stairs and went up them, making her way to another book, this one one that she could go through.

The next room was more like a hallway than a room. Books jutted from the walls randomly as she made her way through the hall. After killing a Seeker she made her way up a staircase, where she found another book on a pedestal, this one called _Delving Pincers_.

She made her way back down the hall she had gone through to find a gate that had previously been shut was now opened, and she entered it. She activated a scrye that was inside the single room, and the wall that had been behind it expanded outward, becoming a long hall.

She started down the hall as it continued to grow, and it ended on a small staircase leading up. After looting a couple soul gems off one of the various tables, she made her way down the hall to her right and into a large chamber. Beneath her feet was a platform that had holes in it that ran around most of the wall, with a bridge leading through the centre, next to a pillar of books that extended up. Looking down, she saw that she was above the chamber that had the first book in it. She looked up and saw that there were several more levels with more of the lattice platforms above her.

She made her way to the scrye on her left and activated it, opening a door across the way. She made the way to it and saw that there was only one of those pods in it. She opened it and saw that there was a pile of books in it. Despite the urge to take them, she left them alone, taking only the large coinpurse that was in it.

She closed it and made her way to the centre of the room, where several platforms met and sprung off in different directions. Down one of the paths she found a book called _Prying Orbs_ and, placing that in her pack with the other two she had found, went through the door that opened when she took it off its pedestal.

Inside was a long hall with a book leading to the next part of Apocrypha at the end. She placed her hand on it, and entered the next room.

Though it was less of a room and more of an open-aired amphitheatre. She was atop a platform with stairs leading down into the lower parts of it, a platform above the inky ocean below it. A hall snaked away down there, and she made her way to it.

The hall was full of tornadoes of papers. She reached an intersection halfway down it and looked to the right, only to see the hall shrink as she started down it. She went back to the main hall and continued down it, picking up a potion of healing on a table along the way, and killing two Seekers.

She couldn’t imagine spending thousands of years there.

She reached a dead end again, the hall shrinking until it became a wall, leaving her no choice but to go back the way she came—the only problem was that she was no longer in that chamber. It was smaller, and there was a staircase to the right. As she ascended it she shook her head, thinking that this place was so confusing.

At the top of the stairs was a pedestal that overlooked the rest of the chamber, a book called _Gnashing Blades_ resting on top of it. She pried it off the pedestal and descended the stairs, and she went through another hallway.

At the end of it was a stalk-like thing, like a scrye, but larger. Behind it a hallway extended, and she squeezed past it as it did, and turned the corner to the right. It curled around until Elsebet was in another chamber, a low-hanging platform above her, with a staircase leading up to it.

She followed the platform around until she reached a scrye. She activated it, though nothing seemed to happen. Frowning, she went back to the hallway she left, and found that it was now pointing in another direction. Sighing, she started down it, Chillrend still held tightly in her hand.

It ended in a room with a pool of inky water in the middle. As she approached it to pass it, a tall creature she had seen when she cleansed the Stones for Storn, of which Aletara had told her were called Lurkers, burst out of the inky blackness and roared loudly.

“ _YOL!_ ”

The fire burst from Elsebet’s mouth, engulfing the Lurker and making it let out an unearthly scream. She unsheathed Dragonbane and with Chillrend, she finished the creature off quickly.

She found a scrye down a hall and went through the gate that opened when she activated it. She ascended the stairs behind it and placed her hand on the book at the end of it.

As she was sucked through and landed in the next room, she thought, _This is a lot longer than the last one. And I still don’t know how long is left._

It seemed that Miraak had a thing for making where he was long and difficult to reach.

She landed in another hallway and she made her way through it, killing the Seeker at the end of it. She descended the stairs into a chamber with platform bridges in it, and she looked up and down to find that she was at the top of what looked like a dome. Around the walls were platforms, and at different points there were empty pedestals. 

She reached the one closest to her and saw that there was a glyph of what looked like sharp teeth. Looking at all the other ones, she saw there were also ones with glyphs of a mass of writhing tentacles, crab claws, and an eye.

It didn’t take her long to realise the four books she’d picked up along the way needed to be used here.

Looking at the glyph of the eye, she pulled all four books out of her pack and looked at the spines, reading the titles again. 

_Boneless Limbs. Delving Pincers. Prying Orbs. Gnashing Blades._

She thought back to all the reading she’d done over the almost-twenty years she’d been alive. Sometimes in those, eyes were called orbs, especially the fictional books when describing eye colour.

She placed _Prying Orbs_ onto the platform and went to the next glyph, the one with the teeth. She placed the _Gnashing Blades_ book on it, and proceeded to the next one. _Delving Pincers_ ended up on the pedestal with the crab claws glyph, and _Boneless Limbs_ ended up on the mass of writhing tentacles.

In the middle of the room, where the platforms converged, a book leading forward lit up, and she passed through it.

She stood in front of a wall of books, and she went to the hall to the right, which curled around to meet with the hall going to the right, and the passage led up in a ramp, the top of it opening into the sickly-green sky that sat atop Apocrypha.

As soon as she stood on the platform at the top of the ramp two Seekers attacked her, but they were killed easily. On the other side of the platform was what looked like a Word Wall, and she made her way over to it. When she got to it, she read what it said.

_This stone commemorates great Miraak: Dragon Priest of great wisdom, servant of the wyrm, and enemy of mankind._

She shivered as she approached it, and took the power the Word held.

The ground started rumbling, and a great roar pierced the air. The dragon Sahrotaar landed on the platform in front of her, and looked at her as he Shouted.

“ _IIZ SLEN NOOS!_ ”

The ice particles launched at her, and she ran out of the way, only feeling a slight bit of cold from it because of her Nordic blood. She turned to the dragon as her Thu’um forced itself up her throat, and she suddenly knew why she needed the Shouts before she entered Apocrypha.

“ _GOL HAH DOV!_ ”

The multicoloured Shout surrounded the serpentine dragon, and he stopped fighting her. In fact, he spoke to her.

“Hail, _thuri_ ,” he said, his voice as deep as all the other dragons she’d talked to. “Your thu’um has mastery. Climb aboard and I will take you to Miraak.”

She didn’t hesitate to do as he said. She remembered the last time she had flown on a dragon, and it had been so liberating, she had wished it never ended.

She grabbed some of Sahrotaar’s scales and pulled herself onto his neck. Once she was situated, he launched himself into the air again, and she immediately felt exhilarated.

He started flying over the inky sea, the beating of his wings soothing Elsebet, and she knew that she had been designed to be in the air—her soul _craved_ it, craved the freedom she felt whenever she wasn’t on solid ground. 

“Beware. Miraak is strong,” Sahrotaar warned. “He knew you would come here.”

She sighed. She knew it was a long shot to surprise Miraak. It was really hope more than anything else. And Miraak still had an advantage on her, because she had only just gotten the Bend Will Shout, and he’d had it for thousands of years.

He’d been a _Dragonborn_ for thousands of years. She’d only been one for less than a _year_.

She was hopelessly outmatched. But she would win, she would defeat him. Because she promised she would. And she didn’t break promises.

He flew her towards a large tower in the middle of the black liquid sea. It was much taller than anything else surrounding it, and she could see two dragons— _Kruziikrel_ and _Relonikiv_ —flying around it.

Sahrotaar landed on the top of the tower, and Elsebet slid off his neck before he launched himself into the air again.


	15. The Summit of Apocrypha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing. Make sure to have tissues beside you, because you are going to cry.

Elsebet stood on top of the tower, a stone monolith erected from the centre of the black ocean. In the centre of the tower was a pool of the same liquid, and standing inside it was Miraak, in all his masked glory, berating Sahrotaar.

“Sahrotaar, are you so easily swayed?” he asked the serpentine dragon.

Ice filled Elsebet’s veins as she heard his deep, silky-smooth voice, the voice that had been haunting her dreams since she had first seen him in the depths of his temple. Her breath went ragged, but she planted her feet and unsheathed her weapons, her Thu’um on the tip of her tongue.

From the corners of her eyes she saw Kruziikrel and Relonikiv hover upon her to start to attack her, but Miraak held up a hand.

“No. Not yet,” he told them, and swept his arm towards Elsebet. “We should greet our guest first.”

Elsebet could tell the two dragons were reluctant, but they listened to their masters, and started circling the tower again, along with Sahrotaar.

She could hear the grin in Miraak’s voice when he spoke again.

“And so the First Dragonborn meets the Last Dragonborn at the Summit of Apocrypha. No doubt just as Hermaeus Mora has intended. He is a fickle master, you know. But now I will be free of him. My time in Apocrypha is over. You are here in your full power, and thus subject to my full power. You will die. And with the power of your soul, I will return to Solstheim and be master of my own fate again. Kruziikrel! Relonikiv! Now!”

The two dragons let out roars and attacked Sahrotaar in the sky, while Miraak Shouted.

“ _MUL QA DIIV!_ ”

The multicoloured Shout left his body and caved in on itself, covering him in an ethereal dragon hide. He unsheathed his sword, the hilt writhing like tentacles, and cast a lightning bolt in his other hand. Elsebet dove out of the way and Shouted herself, using a Shout she hadn’t yet used.

“ _HUN KAL ZOOR!_ ”

The energy of the Shout leaped into the air and coalesced on the ground next to her, and began building up from its feet. When the wispy energy dissipated into the air, there stood an ethereal Hakon One-Eye, one of the Three Tongues she had fought Alduin with.

He let out a battlecry, pulling his battleaxe off his back, and charged at Miraak. Elsebet unsheathed her blades and charged at him as well, and the two of them hacked away at Miraak, and his summoned dragon hide.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

Miraak Shouted at Elsebet, and she got a taste of the medicine she’d been dishing out to her enemies. She was launched off her feet and across the floor of the Summit—as Miraak had called it—almost falling off the edge.

She pushed herself to her feet and looked up at him, anger in her eyes as her Summoned Hero disappeared, and Miraak cast a spell on himself.

He became see-through, ethereal, and he turned around, Whirlwind Sprinting into one of the pits of black liquid on the other side of the Summit, and he sank beneath it, appearing in the middle, still ethereal. He looked up at one of the dragons that was attacking Sahrotaar and called to him.

The dragon Kruziikrel landed on the edge of the Summit and looked at his master expectantly.

“Kruziikrel! _ZII LOST DII DU!_ ”

The Shout tore itself around the dragon’s body, and pulled his lifeforce out of it. His skin started to dissolve while he was still alive, and let out a painful cry as Miraak absorbed every last bit, and he stopped being ethereal.

Elsebet stared at him as the skeletal bones of Kruziikrel slumped over the edge of the Summit and plummeted towards the black ocean.

Miraak’s form flickered, and he became solid once more, sheathing his sword and pulling a staff off his back.

Elsebet pushed herself to her feet, her grips still on her weapons, and charged at him. He slammed the end of the staff onto the ground, and a wave of writhing tentacles grew from the floor, lashing Elsebet’s legs, torso and arms, some of them wrapping around her appendages to stop her from moving. She let out a cry of pain as lacerations appeared on her skin where the tentacles touched her. When they disappeared several seconds later, she was bleeding from the many cuts that now danced across her skin.

She dropped Dragonbane but held onto Chillrend, looking up at Miraak. She pushed herself to her feet, as she had been dragged down by the tentacles, and took a couple steps towards him, the cuts stinging with the cold air that surrounded her.

She didn’t know if what she was going to do next was going to work, but it was worth a try.

“ _STRUN!_ ”

The Shout echoed over the openness of the Summit, and the sky cracked with thunder as a bolt of lightning slammed into the ground behind her.

Miraak’s grip on his staff tightened, and he Shouted at her again.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ”

She managed to roll out of the way of the Shout just in time, and it careened into the distance behind her. She brought up Chillrend as she ran at Miraak, another bolt of lightning hitting the floor not far from them, rain pouring heavily from the heavens, and brought it down on his head. He raised his staff just in time, and the ice-cold edge of the blade slammed into the shaft of the staff.

She raised a foot and kicked him in the gut, making him bend over as the wind left him, and she raised her other leg to kick him, her foot connecting with his chin.

He arched back, his mask dislodged from his face slightly, and he stumbled to stay on his feet. He reached up to fix his mask back over his face when she brought her foot up again, and it went careening off, flying through the air and landed on the edge of the oily pool in the centre of the Summit.

She blinked at his appearance as he turned to her, anger showing predominantly in his dark brown eyes. His hair was cropped close to his head, as dark as his eyes and the ocean the Summit of Apocrypha sat in. His face was weathered with age, but he didn’t look past forty.

He opened his mouth to Shout again when he was hit directly with a bolt of lightning from the sky, and his entire body shook.

When he stopped he cast a spell on himself, making himself ethereal again. Elsebet took a swing at him, but her sword went straight through him, and he Whirlwind Sprinted away just as the second dragon, Relonikiv, landed on the platform where Kruziikrel had before.

“Relonikiv!” Miraak yelled from the centre of the Summit. “ _ZII LOST DII DU!_ ”

Just like he had with Kruziikrel, he absorbed Relonikiv’s still-living soul, killing him instantly. As Miraak absorbed his soul, he picked up the mask that had landed next to the pool and pulled it over his head, obscuring it from Elsebet once again.

But she knew she’d never be able to forget his face.

He lit a lightning spell in both his hands and shot them at her, using all the rage he had inside him. They hit Elsebet square in the chest, and she tumbled to the floor, her body jerking as electricity coursed through her body. She let out a scream of pain, and the edges of her vision went black when the electricity stopped, just as the sky above them started clearing out.

Tentacles engulfed her form again as Miraak used his staff again, digging into her skin, and she cried out again, tears welling in her eyes. They held her down to the floor as Miraak walked over to her, lifting his mask up so she could see his face.

There was a playful smirk on his lips as he spoke. “You are powerful, I’ll give you that. You even have a Shout I don’t have. When I kill you and take your soul, I will enjoy learning it.”

Pushing against the tentacles with all her might, she managed to get her sword arm free, and plunged Chillrend into his stomach. He grunted, and he reached down to stop her hand from pushing the icy blade further into his gut. 

He stumbled backwards, the sword pulling out of the wound, and he held his hands against his stomach to stem the flow of blood. He cast his spell on himself again, and appeared in the centre of the Summit, just as Sahrotaar landed on the Summit.

The tentacles released Elsebet and disappeared as Miraak Shouted and stole Sahrotaar’s soul, leaving the serpentine dragon a pile of bones along with Kruziikrel and Relonikiv. She pushed herself to her feet and charged at him as he seemed to heal from the wound she dealt him, his stamina and magicka replenishing.

Whereas, Elsebet was bleeding from her arms, legs and torso, her Thieves Guild armour shredded from the tentacles.

She launched herself at Miraak and brought her blade down on his shoulder. He dodged out of the way, the tip only just grazing him, and he dropped his staff and unsheathed his sword to catch her second attack.

He pushed her backwards, and she stumbled, her wounds stinging. He slashed his sword at her, slashing the front of her armour open and opening another wound across her chest. 

Panic started filling Elsebet’s veins as he swung his sword down again, and it dug into the side of her thigh. She let out a scream as he slid it out of her leg, and she was almost brought down to her knees.

One of her Shouts forced itself up her throat as he reared backwards and went to strike again, and it erupted from her mouth without any incentive on her part.

“ _ZUN!_ ”

The purple energy wrapped around his sword and wretched it from his grip, flinging it a couple metres from where they stood.

He growled in frustration and reached out to take her by the throat, but her body moved automatically and she backed away a step, swinging her sword up to cut off his hand. It plunged halfway through his wrist, and he let out a grunt of pain as she pulled Chillrend out of the wound, and went to strike again when his left fist connected with her nose.

Caught off guard, she arched backwards and fell to the ground. She went to scramble to her feet, her hand held up to her nose, when his foot connected with her chest. The air was forced from her lungs, and she was sure some of her lungs were broken from it. He reared his foot back again and kicked her in the face, her head jerking backwards, and she felt blood spill down over her mouth and cheek.

“Don’t you get it?” he asked her, his voice raised as he bent down and picked up Dragonbane from where she had dropped it earlier. “This is the only way, Dragonborn. The only way I can be free.”

He raised the sword above her, the tip pointed down at her to plunge into her side.

She squeezed her eyes shut and sent a prayer to Akatosh, to help her. To take Miraak’s power, heal Elsebet— _anything_.

Because Arkay had told her she was going to know when she was about to die, and this didn’t feel right.

She heard a small grunting sound above her, and she opened her eyes to see Miraak still standing above her, the tip of Dragonbane pointed at her side, but there was a tentacle protruding from the centre of his chest.

The sword slipped from his grip, and she tried to roll out of the ways, but all her injuries made her joints achy, and she didn’t move in time. The sword plunged into her left kidney, and she let out a scream as Miraak’s body was dragged to the centre of the Summit, Hermaeus Mora’s grotesque mass of tentacles and eyes floating above him.

_Did you think you could escape me, Miraak?_

She’d never heard such rage, such raw power and anger. Hermaeus Mora was _mad_ , and Miraak was going to _pay_.

_You can hide nothing from me here. No matter. I have found a new Dragonborn to serve me._

Elsebet saw him cough up blood from his unmasked face. “May she be rewarded for her service as I am!”

_Miraak had fantasies of rebellion against me._

Elsebet looked at Miraak with fear as his skin started to disintegrate, like dragon skin did once they died. Was she going to absorb his soul?

_Learn from his example. Serve me faithfully, and you will continue to be richly rewarded._

_Can he see that I’m bleeding out here?_ she thought to herself, and she coughed up a chunk of blood.

Hermaeus Mora took his tentacle out of Miraak’s body, and the skeletal remains of the First Dragonborn wrapped in cloth fell to the ground as waves of white energy careened towards Elsebet.

Names filled her head as soul after soul filled her, the first two to enter her reaching for the locked Words of Power inside of her. 

_Ninzoornaan_. _Gaanzintah_. _Teykrifkiin_. _Rultahnil_. _Daarvuldrem_. _Bahkulbel_. _Voljunnok_. _Krosulhah_. _Kruziikrel. Relonikiv. Sahrotaar._

_Miraak._

The grotesque form of Hermaeus Mora disappeared, leaving Elsebet alone, dying in a pool of her own blood.

A tear slid down the side of her face as she reached up and gripped the handle of Dragonbane. She grit her teeth as she began to pull it out, and tears started running down the sides of her face as she let out an ear-piercing scream of pain, the edges of her vision starting to blacken. But she made herself pull it out, just so she could move without it cutting more of her insides up.

She let out another guttural scream as the blade came free of her flesh, and it clattered onto the floor next to her. Taking a couple deep breaths, each breath painful as she was sure her broken ribs had punctured at least one of her lungs, she started to move. She let out pain-filled sobs as she managed to get to her knees, but couldn’t get herself to stand up. 

She let out another sob as she started crawling forward, towards the middle of the Summit where a portcullis had been raised out of the inky black pool, an open book in the centre of it that would send her back to Solstheim.

She needed to get out of Apocrypha. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t die there. There was still so much she needed to do, so much she needed to say.

She needed to tell Paces and Frea that she was sorry for their father’s death, she didn’t know that was what Herma-Mora had been planning.

She needed to tell her brother and sister and mother and father that she loved them.

She needed to tell her father she forgave him for leaving them all those years ago, because at least she had some family back.

To tell Zedronymus and Aletara and Cyres and Arcaelo that she was sorry, so _so sorry_ for causing Risorallen’s death, because while she had blamed herself, she didn’t let them know that she did, and they didn’t deserve that.

To tell Rune that she…

To tell Rune…

She reached the portcullis as her vision started to get blurry, and all her strength was gone. She collapsed on the stone stairs leading up to the pedestal that reached the book, and she reached up for it, but her hand couldn’t reach.

She let out a sob as her hand went limp beside her, and her tears kept coming.

She needed to see Rune again.

He was the only thing that silenced the voices in her head.

And that was what she needed the most.

With her last bit of strength as her life drained out of her, she pushed herself up slightly with both her hands, as much as she could, and raised her hand over the edges of the book, her bloody fingers staining the bottom of the open page.

And as her fingers fell from the page as her strength left her and darkness started enveloping her, she felt herself falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should expect this from me so far. I love Elsebet with all my heart, but I love seeing her hurt. I love writing the angst that goes with it. I love it.
> 
> Also, there's only one more chapter! Yay! I'm so excited for the next book, it's going to be amazing, and longer than this one, I promise.


	16. Is This What We're Doing Now?

Rune had only been away from Skaal Village for _maybe_ an hour. He didn’t understand how such a lot of things could happen in such a short amount of time.

Because when he got back to the village, Elsebet was standing in the middle of the town reading a book, and was transparent.

He blinked at her, dropping the elk he had managed to hunt with Wulf Wild-Blood onto the floor, before rushing towards her, crying out her name.

Halfway there, a hand appeared on his arm and stopped him in his place. He looked over and saw the owner was Frea, the new town Shaman after her father died just over two weeks earlier.

“She’s not here at the moment,” she told him.

He was confused. “But she’s right there!”

“Her body may be, but not her soul,” she said. “I’ve seen this before, when we found the Black Book in Miraak’s Temple. She was here, but she was somewhere else.”

“Where is she then?”

She looked over to where her brother, Paces, was looking at the ethereal Dragonborn with worry. “Apocrypha. Fighting Miraak. I pray she defeats him.”

He made his way over to her. “How long has she been like this?”

“Since just after you left,” Paces said. “I’ve been looking over her since, but I’m afraid to heal her with magic. I don’t know if she’ll get healed while in there, and I don’t want to waste my magic in case she needs it afterwards.”

Rune nodded. He could see his logic.

He stood with Paces and Frea for an hour more, though it felt like years. He stared at her face, but he couldn’t read anything of the current situation from it. He didn’t know if she was fighting Miraak, or if she was still on the way, or if she was on death’s door, and it was killing him not knowing.

He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt deeply for her. He prayed that she survived whatever was happening to her.

It was then that the book slipped out of her grasp, landing open on the floor before it closed itself, and the transparentness left her skin. He almost fainted at the wounds that covered her entire body, her Thieves Guild armour shredded and loose on her physique.

And she was falling to the floor.

Rune caught her shoulders with one arm and looped his other arm under her knees. He could feel the blood that coated the ruined armour, and it didn’t take a genius to realise that most of it was probably hers.

Her eyes fluttered for a second, and her different coloured eyes stared up at him.

She breathed in a gasp of air that sounded painful, and she whispered his name up at him.

“Shh,” he told her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Everything… hurts…” she whimpered, and tears fell from her eyes, traversing a well-streaked cheek.

And then her eyes closed, and she went limp in her arms, her cheek resting against his leather-clad chest.

Panic started filling him as Frea held her hands over her unconscious body, and sighed in relief. “She’s still alive,” she said, “but she’s severely wounded. Take her to the Shaman’s cottage, Paces and I will be able to heal her there.”

Rune nodded, and did as she said.

He watched as the siblings worked on her, using spells and potions to get her stabilised. A couple minutes after they had entered the cottage, Rune had had to step outside to get some air. He couldn’t be inside any longer.

And he prayed to every god he knew that she would survive. The world needed her.

He needed her.

* * *

The first thing Elsebet knew was that everything hurt. Breathing hurt, and opening her eyes hurt. She let out a low groan, and looked to the right to see Rune asleep on a chair, obviously having fallen asleep while waiting for her to wake up.

She tried to wrack her brain for how he was there. She hadn’t told him she was going to Solstheim. The only people that knew were her family, Marcurio, and…

“Arcaelo,” she muttered, then winced.

Even talking hurt.

Rune stirred at that moment, and when he opened his eyes saw her staring at him. He sat up straight immediately.

“Elsebet! How are you? How long have you been awake?”

“Sore,” she muttered. “Seconds.”

“I was so worried for you,” he told her. “You were almost dead."

She nodded once, and winced at the movement.

He stood up. “I’m going to get Frea and Paces. They’re going to want to know that you’re awake.”

He didn’t let her respond before he left. Several minutes later he was back, the Crag-Strider siblings in toe.

Paces grinned widely when he saw her. “You’re okay! We were so worried about you.”

She shook her head, not letting them know that it hurt her to do it. “You don’t have to be. Arkay made a deal with me.”

“She’s delirious,” Frea told the men, holding a hand to Elsebet’s forehead. “And burning up. You need to sleep.”

She shook her head again. “I’m fine. How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks,” Frea said.

Elsebet’s eyes widened. “What!? No, it can’t be, I wasn’t hurt that bad!”

“Elsebet,” Rune said, “you almost died.”

“So?” she asked. “I almost die a lot. I have been yelled at by a god because of how many times I’ve almost died. Two, actually.”

“I’m not surprised,” Paces told her.

“Just get some sleep,” Frea said. “You won’t regret it.”

* * *

Elsebet ended up sleeping well into June, getting her energy back from her fight with Miraak. When the town learned that she had killed him—really, Hermaeus Mora had killed him, but she did most of the work, so she was taking credit for it—they had celebrated. They were happy, and so was Neloth, when he came to visit to see how she was doing with the whole thing.

After a week of bedrest, she had been able to stand up long enough to get all her stuff back from Apocrypha. She now had both her swords back, as well as Miraak’s sword and staff, which she kept securely in her back, as well as his mask and clothes, as he wouldn’t be needing them. She’d also learned that her reward for getting through _Waking Dreams_ was all of Miraak’s stuff, so that worked well for her.

But she didn’t head back to Raven Rock, and thus Skyrim, until the sixteenth of Mid Year. In that time, she had managed to help find the kidnapped Skaal blacksmith, Baldor Iron-Shaper, raided Vahlok’s Tomb and thus got a new Shout, which would allow her to enchant her followers’ weapons for a certain amount of time. Vahlok had been a pain to kill, and he didn’t even have a mask on him.

And she had helped bring in food for the village once she was healed up enough from _that_ encounter to walk around again.

And once Frea was satisfied that none of Elsebet’s wounds would reopen, though they would add to her collection of scars, she let her go back to Skyrim with Rune.

It was the night before they went back to Skyrim that Elsebet worked up the courage to tell Rune how she felt.

They had rented a room at the Retching Netch, as they had travelled to Raven Rock in preparation, and Elsebet was staring at where Rune was fluffing his pillow on the other bed in the room, and she called out his name.

He looked over at him, concern on his face. “Yes? Is everything alright?”

She nodded. “Everything’s fine, Rune. I just… I’m sorry for not telling you I’m the Dragonborn. I just, I really like you, and everyone has different reactions to learning what I am, and I didn’t want it to affect our relationship.”

“It’s okay,” he told her. “I understand. You’re extremely powerful. Some people would use that as an incentive to either worship you or somehow get you under their control. But know that I would never do that to you.”

He had stood up from the bed and sat on her bed at that point. He reached up and touched her bottom lip with his thumb, and all her doubts vanished.

“I really like you too. And even though we had that kiss, you left almost right after. And I understand now why you did it, you had to help Solstheim. From how you came out of that book, I’m glad you did. Someone like that can’t live in this world peacefully. Just know that I will always be with you, and understand everything you do.”

Elsebet leaned forward and connected their lips. Rune moved his lips on hers, reaching up and cupping her cheeks, pulling her towards him more.

He broke away from her for a second. “I will always be there for you, no matter what.”

And that was all she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and enjoying Elsebet's story. Her third story has come to a close, with the fourth about to begin. I love every single one of you, and I'm so glad that you've all stuck around this far.
> 
> Just like last book, the next chapter is going to tell you when I've posted the next book. I can't wait!


	17. Author's Note

The next book has been posted! It's called A Dragon's Dawn :)


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